


The Lonely Spider's Eye

by Starren_Moonstone



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arachnophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychological Torture, Tenderness, this is all cannon typical shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starren_Moonstone/pseuds/Starren_Moonstone
Summary: Martin is a poet whose poetry is rarely read. Jon is a researcher at the Magnus Institute, trapped by his direct boss, Elias. Gerry works at a library, wishing for something to liven up his life. Their lives become connected by one book, and they realize just how much their lives are interwoven by the Fear entities that haunt the world.Written for Rusty Quill Big Bang 2020
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49
Collections: Rusty Quill Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting day is finally here! I'm so glad to be able to share this story with you all.
> 
> This AU is based on the idea of what if the fear entities didn't have rituals. I think that explains why certain people are where they are. Most of the background stuff for the characters is the same, they just ended up in different places. 
> 
> I put a heads ups in the bottom of each of the chapters of the things that are tagged, so that people know when things are happening.

**Martin**

<There are no footprints

on the sand. The waves

have washed them all away.

There are no shells, no marks of life,

for there are

no creatures that lurk

beneath the mellow, tempesting

waters. No sound can penetrate,

no fire can warm. All is calm

here.>

Martin stared at his newest creation, debating how to continue it. There was no way he was going to change the last line. That was gold. He should feel happier about his newest creation…

He’s not. Or rather, he can’t. The feeling cannot stick, and just slips through his consciousness. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, nor would it be the last. Martin was used to it by that point. As such his fate…

A moment of frustration flickered before dying out to numbness once again.

**Jon**

Jon had a system whenever he entered the Magnus Institute, his place of his unfortunate employment. He would be as quiet as possible, avoiding anyone who would be out in the halls, and making himself be very unapproachable until he got to his desk that was located near the research offices. As long as he was quiet enough, he could get an hour or so by himself without Elias, the director of the Institute, looking over his shoulder or dragging him into some experiment or another.

Jon took a few moments at his desk to simply breathe. It was nearly Friday, so he could have a few days break from the place. He took a deep breath in and out. There was a new project that Elias was working on, and Jon had no doubt he would be brought into it very soon. As long as it was on Monday, he figured he could handle it. The last experiment happened only last week, and he was still personally recovering from it. There was a click at his desk, and Jon knew his moment of peace was gone already.

Elias had to be in some sort of mood.

“Good morning,” Jon muttered, “I am on time today.”

“You are always punctual, Jon,” Elias said, as he opened the door and entered the room. “That’s not why I wanted to speak with you this morning. No, I just have a very simple request, if you would indulge me for a moment.”

Jon felt something in the back of his head, telling him no, but he simply nodded. It wasn’t like he could tell Elias no anyway. His boss would just make everything worse, because he was an occult sadist.

Elias procured a black box with a hand sized hole on the top. Jon was reminded of a children’s museum where kids would feel what certain objects were like. “If you could put your hand in here for a moment.” It wasn’t a request.

“What’s in there?” Jon asked, not moving his hand.

“Now, Jon, where’s the fun in that?” There was a certain glow from Elias’ eyes that made Jon shut up.

Jon put his hand in the box, and flattened his hand at the bottom of it. Nothing. He looked up at Elias, waiting for his employer to laugh or say “Got you,” or something to that extent. Elias merely smiled, his plastered mask that fooled most people.

A painful prick seeped into the skin of Jon and he jerked his hand out of the box. Elias caught his wrists before Jon could cradle his own hand close to his chest. “Interesting.” Elias said, the smile contorting into a wicked grin. “Jon… how do you feel about spiders?”

Again, there was the glint in Elias’ eyes. “I don’t like them,” Jon let out before he could control his tongue, “I’m afraid of them.” Jon wished he wasn’t so used to this mind trick Elias used. It never got any easier.

“Ah… well, good to know for the future.” There was a distinct lack of empathy in Elias’ voice. “Once you have finished sorting out the Nicola experiment, I have a new folder that needs to be filed on the online system.”

Jon merely nodded, and watched Elias leave. He waited a few moments before letting out a single sob, putting his head in his hands. No tears, and no other audible noises besides his shaky breath. The tape still ran.

**Gerry**

Gerry had a bad feeling that it was going to be a long day. Not that rain had ever been a huge deterrent for people going to the library, however the new semester hadn’t started yet, and it was the kind of rainy day where people would rather stay at home. If Gerry was actually dating, he knew he would rather be at home with his significant other watching a movie on the couch. Alas, he was single, and so working at the library was just about as good as being alone at home. There was a chance for him to meet someone at the library. 

A subtle knock on one of the book shelves drew Gerry from his thoughts. “Sorry to bother you,” an elderly man said, a plastered smile on his face, “But I was wondering if you could help me look for some articles?” 

Gerry nodded. Anything to get the day to pass by quicker. Though, as the two of them walked over to records, Gerry noticed the man wearing a very peculiar bracelet. He recognized the glyphs etched into it as a warding spell. He was surprised, considering most older folk weren’t into such things, and kept it in the back of his head. As much as this gentleman he was helping was older, he definitely looked like he could run if his life depended on it. “Any subject or day in particular?”

“I’m looking for a newspaper from a few years ago… March 2013. Maybe a few. There was a whole string of disappearances.”

Gerry vaguely remembered it. He knew that his guardian, Gertrude, had looked into the ordeal, but he didn’t remember if she ever got to the bottom of it. Not that she would have told him. She always kept her work secret from him, and since he wasn’t living with her at the time, he couldn’t just secretly look through files without her noticing. He looked through the records. “Is there one you are looking for in particular?”

The man thought about it, then shook his head, “Any and all would be fantastic.”

Gerry really wanted to ask what it was for, but it wasn’t any of his business. He pulled out the newspapers for that month, and a few from April. “Just let me or one of the other librarians know when you’re done, ok?”

“Thank you so much,” the gentleman said, and he pulled out a book without a title. A notebook probably.

“Excuse me!” a voice of a young girl said, “I’m looking for horse books.”

Gerry smiled, and after one last look at the title-less book, he left to go help the child navigate the library system. With kids, he did try to teach them how to find books. That way, when they got older, they sort of had a basis on how to do research. The girl was very excited about the books she checked out and she gave a big thank you to Gerry before running off to find her mother.

Before Gerry decided to go back to the newspaper guy, a guy walked up to the front desk. Now, Gerry’s initial thought was that this guy was hot.. in the prep jock type of way that Gerry had no interest in for actually dating. Pity. There was some sweat dripping from the ends of this man’s hair, however the rest of him was put together. “Anything I can help you with?” Gerry asked.

“Yeah… have you seen this old guy come in. Has a little bit of a beard and wears a weird bracelet?”

‘What a weird coincidence,’ Gerry thought to himself, though he fully knew it wasn’t. He learned fairly early on in his life that there were no coincidences, just patterns yet to be unearthed. “He’s over in the back. Friend of yours?”

The jock paused a little too long at the question. “Sure,” he said unconvincingly. He walked off, heading to where the records were.

As interested as Gerry was in finding out what this guy’s deal was, he also didn’t want to get in the middle of something that was over his head. If he was dragged in, then that would be one thing. However, both gentlemen left him well enough alone, so he should extend the same courtesy… The feeling of curiosity nagged at his mind. It wasn’t too long later that the jock was back, along with the older gentleman. They both looked cool, calm, and collected, except Gerry noticed that the jock was holding onto the gentleman’s shoulder a little too tightly.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” Gerry asked.

The older gentleman gave a fake smile, and nodded. “Thank you for your help, young man.”

The jock frowned, pushed the old man’s shoulder, and the two of them walked out of the library. Gerry sighed, and went off to the back to put away the newspapers. He hoped that he wouldn’t read an obituary for the old guy come the following days.

It took a bit to reorganize the newspapers. There definitely was something the old guy was looking for considering the disappearances. There wasn’t a definitive article on what happened, just a few police statements saying they were doing what they could. Though, as Gerry was cleaning up, he saw the untitled book the gentleman had was still there, on the table hidden by the newspapers. Gerry sighed, and opened the book to see if there was a way to contact the man. There wasn’t, and even odder was that there was no title or author listed in the inside cover. Instead, the book opened up to poetry. ‘Weird,’ Gerry thought as he closed the book and finished his cleaning.

A part of Gerry just wanted to dump the book in the lost and found and pray that the owner would be back later for it. However, his curiosity got the better of him and he opened the book again once he got back to the front desk. Maybe there was something about the disappearances that the gentleman was looking at. A clue or something. Besides, nothing much else was happening that day. Gerry flipped through the poetry. They were handwritten, and obviously rough drafts because they weren’t all that great. Certainly needed to be edited. The last page of writing was what Gerry guessed was a conversation between two people. One was the poet and the other had very eloquent handwriting.

“What is your name?”

“You never bothered to ask before.”

“Ah, I think you misunderstand. I just recently picked up this book. Whoever you think I may be, I am not. You may call me Jurgen.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“Have you heard of the disappearances of St. Osyth Beach? I have reason to believe you might.”

No response after that. So that was the gentleman’s name: Jurgen… or at least possibly. It could be that the gentleman was given the book by this Jurgen. It certainly left more questions than answers. All Gerry knew was that leaving the book unattended could be dangerous. He knew that there were books out there that had special abilities. He honestly should burn the thing, however there wasn’t the dread that the other mysterious books had. He shoved it in his bag, hoping to find out more later when he went onto his lunch break.

“Excuse me?” another young kid asked. Gerry put on a smile. Back to work.

Though as he got back to his normal day, he couldn’t get the name LEITNER out of his head, despite never hearing the name before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:non-descriptive biting, implied arachnophobia


	2. Chapter 2

**Jon**

Jon shakily entered the cafe that was four blocks away from the institute in which he worked. It was where Jon usually went to grab lunch, since he usually wasn’t able to get himself to prepare it beforehand. It was a quaint place, and was usually quiet enough for Jon to find a table rather easily. He liked staying outside the Institute when he could. It got… stuffy often enough that Jon needed fresh air.

The queue wasn’t all that long, and Jon waited behind only one person. He brushed back his salt and pepper hair that had been growing a bit unruly of late. He knew he needed to get it cut or trimmed or something, but he couldn’t get himself to actually do it, even on his days off. It was already bad enough that his clothes were wrinkled on most days. He needed to get a schedule down, but on his days off, he tended to just sleep. It wasn’t a good habit he got himself into, but changing it was hard.

Soon enough, Jon was ordering his sandwich. A simple turkey club, with some crisps. Jon’s voice was raspy as he spoke, like sandpaper lightly brushing against wood. He went to pull out his wallet… he patted down his pockets, dread panic rising. He left his wallet in the Institute. He wasn’t sure how… no… Elias took it. He was sure of that.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” Jon muttered, and he started to turn to walk out of the cafe.

“Hey,” someone stood in his way. “Let me pay.” Jon looked up. He did recognize the man that spoke. He didn’t have a name, but he seemed to frequent the cafe once a week just about. His hair and tattoos that covered most of his exposed skin screamed goth punk, but his clothes were usually of a more normal nature. It was an odd juxtaposition.

“It’s fine.” Jon didn’t really want to trouble anyone with his own worries. “I forgot my wallet. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Right, so let me pay, and you can sit with me. We both get something we want.”

Jon blinked out of confusion… “Thank you,” he muttered and stepped aside to let Gerry order his meal. The two of them have talked before. The man seemed like a very nice fellow with the few light conversations they had together. Certainly out of Jon’s league, which made him confused as to why he wanted to sit and eat with him of all people. Jon was dressed decently enough, but certainly not nice on a constant basis. Not for someone to randomly ask him out. Jon wasn’t exactly in anyone’s league.

They took a booth seat by one of the windows, and Jon got a glimpse of himself in the ghostly image reflected. He looked awful, simply put. Like he was shoved in a dryer that ran for an hour.

“My name’s Gerry,” the goth introduced himself.

“Jon. Thanks again… I just… I don’t know what happened.” He certainly didn’t want to explain why his employer would have his wallet, that was for sure.

“It happens. I didn’t see you last week. What happened?”

“…work.”

“What do you do?”

Jon didn’t think it was anyone’s business, but since this was most certainly an impromptu lunch date… “I’m a researcher. Sometimes, I get a bit too absorbed in things…” A blatant lie, but he didn’t want to talk about the real reason. He started nibbling at his sandwich.

“I get that way with books sometimes,” Gerry admits, “Which can be a problem sometimes. I work at a library.”

“Do you get caught reading often?”

“Often enough that my coworkers joke about it.” Gerry gave Jon a half-smile.

There was one point in which Jon was like that. He devoured books as a kid; now, he couldn’t remember the last time he picked up a book on his own accord. “…read any good books recently?” Jon asked, “I’m always looking for a new book to read.” That was something normal people said, right?

“No…” Gerry started to say, and then he glanced down at his book bag. “Well, sort of. It’s more of a mystery than a good read.”

Jon was interested. “I’m up for a mystery.” About as up as he could be for anything.

Gerry pulled out a leather bound book without a title. It looked rather new, which surprised Jon. It wasn’t the kind of thing people made all that much anymore, except at maybe flea markets. “It’s a series of poems, except for the end. I’m not really sure what to make of it. Someone left it at the library today.”

Jon gave the book a weary glance. He knew quite well that mysterious books could hold a lot of power. Though, it sat normally enough in Gerry’s hand. “Isn’t this the sort of thing that gets put in the lost and found?” He took the book from Gerry. 

“Yeah, usually,” Gerry shrugged, “I don’t know, this book seemed to call out to me.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. Never a good sign. “That can be dangerous.” He stopped himself from getting more ominous. “Are you a poetry fan?”

“I listen to slam poetry online once in a while. I don’t go out of my way for it.”

“I think the last poem I had to read was in secondary school,” Jon mused, “I never really understood it… ah, here is that weird thing…” After the conversation, more poetry sprung up. “It does continue after that.”

“What?” Gerry pushed the book down so he could look on upside down. “That wasn’t there before…” And then, words started appearing on the page, like some ghost was writing on it with an invisible pen.

Jon and Gerry looked at each other. “What is this?” Jon asked, interested. This certainly could not have been a Leitner. It didn’t have the same feel as one.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Gerry wound his head around some thought Jon wasn’t privy to.

Jon’s phone suddenly vibrated, making him jump. It was his alarm, telling him he needed to get back to work. “I… ah, have to go… sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Jon started to leave, then he walked back to the table. Curiosity always got the better of him. “…I do want to know where this goes though.”

“Sure. When are you free?” Gerry pulled out a sticky note and started writing on it.

“Tomorrow. I get out early on Fridays.”

“Great. I get out at five. Meet me at the library tomorrow and we can have a proper look at this book.” Gerry grinned and handed Jon the sticky note that had his number on it. “And don’t forget to text me your number.”

“Sure… yeah, rightly… see you tomorrow then.” He took what remained of his food and briskly walked out of the cafe. As he continued down the street back to the Institute, his face became flushed from embarrassment. 

Jon hurried back to the Institute and opened the door of his office to see Elias, casually leaning on Jon’s desk in expectation. “Jon, how was your lunch?” Elias’ golden eyes pierced through Jon’s head; Jon fully knew that Elias was reading his mind.

“Fine,” Jon said tersely.

“Are you sure?” From an inside pocket of Elias’ jacket, he pulled out Jon’s wallet.

‘Of course he did,’ Jon thought, glaring at Elias. “Why?”

“Oh, Jon, I think you know why. Your little stunt today could not go unpunished. I hope you learned.” Elias handed Jon back his wallet.

Jon sighed, and shoved his wallet in his pocket. Earlier that day, he made a point to Elias to stop putting spiders and cobwebs all over his desk. He personally thought he said all of this in a calm and mature fashion. Apparently not, if it meant his boss had to prove a point in such a childlike manner. Jon refused to say anything else.

“Now, if that is all settled, I have a new project for you.”

“So soon?” Jon tried not to sound panicked as he felt. Elias called them projects, but Jon knew these were experiments. He wasn’t sure to what end. Elias sure did not explain why. Jon wasn’t ready in any capacity, certainly not after what he went through that morning. However, he was in no position to refuse Elias.

“Well, I got all the pieces for it earlier than expected,” Elias explained, “And there is no better time like the present.”

Jon pursed his lips. “And what does this ‘project’ entail?”

“Follow me, and I will show you.” The wicked grin on Elias’ face made Jon fearful.

Jon did as he was told, trying to hold himself steady. He couldn’t show Elias he was afraid. That would let Elias win this game he projected onto Jon, and that was the last thing Jon wanted. They reached a conference room, and Elias opened the door, motioning Jon to step in first. Jon did, and Elias closed the door so that it was Jon alone in the room.

‘Of course,’ Jon thought solemnly, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lit room. At first, Jon thought there was nothing there. He walked to the seat in the middle of the room and sat down. There was a cassette player on the table there; it clocked on as Jon sat down. So, there was obviously something in the room, but Jon really wasn’t sure what. More worms? He shuddered at the thought, but didn’t think Elias would be doing that any time soon.

In the corner of the room, Jon spotted a spider web. It was big enough to be noticed, and Jon did not see a spider in the web… No. “Elias, what is this?” he asked, knowing that Elias was listening in. Not that he responded ever. No, he just sat, watching, seeing what Jon did in each situation.

Jon gritted his teeth and searched the room for the owner of the web in the corner. No such luck, so he sat back down, and shifted the chair so he was as far as he could be from the web while still being sat at the table. Jon closed his eyes, and prayed that whatever was going to happen would happen so he could leave the room. That time would pass by quickly so he could leave for the day.

Jon felt something crawl up his arm. He immediately brushed off his arms. A spider fell and out of reflex, Jon squished it with the palm of his hand. He could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end. He absolutely hated spiders.

A knock came to the door. Two raps. Jon was immediately teleported back to his childhood. A book. A bully. A door. “Who is it, Mr. Spider?” a voice said near Jon’s ear. Whether it was real or not didn’t matter anymore. It was real enough for Jon to freeze up in horror. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, not daring to go near the door. He didn’t care if it was just Elias, he didn’t want to take that chance. The whole while, he was reminded of a moment in his childhood he would have rather forgotten forever.

Jon wasn’t sure what happened for a long time, but when he could start thinking clearly again, he was back at his desk and there was a note in front of him. Elias was nowhere to be seen, but Jon was sure that his employer was still nearby.

“We will continue this later. When you are cognizant again, you are free to leave for the day. -Elias” Next to where Elias signed his name was a drawing of an eye. He always did that in his notes to Jon. Somewhere always had to have an eye just to remind him who he worked for. Or rather, what.

Jon didn’t waste any time grabbing his jacket and getting out of the Institute. Anything to get any distance away from that damned room.

  
  


**Martin**

Martin’s existence was an odd one. Mostly because he didn’t have a body or anything physical. He had his mind, and that was about it. He could see the pages of the book he was bound to, most of them being blank. He found a certain peace in his existence, and would be content with it if it weren’t for the sharp pain he constantly felt. It was tiring, and there was no escape from it.

He stared at the poetry in front of him, though he wasn’t properly reading it. His thoughts were elsewhere. He was pissed. For a while now, he had been getting the same damned question asked of him. Was he an Avatar of the lonely? Martin wondered what did it matter if he was, whatever an avatar is. He refused to answer.

And then, from out of nowhere, this person asked for his name. Though, the handwriting was different. Martin dodged the question, not feeling any sort of generous nature. It felt pompous and insincere, and Martin wanted no part of that. He hated people like that.

<Have you heard of the disappearances at St. Osyth Beach?>

If Martin had lungs and a mouth and a voice-box, he would scream; he was angry. It had been a while since he felt such a strong emotion. The worst thing about it was he didn’t know why. Was it just the fact that he hadn’t talked with anyone for a long time and everything just felt so fake? Was it the fact that these people had invaded his personal space?

Martin’s anger broke into a voidic nothingness. Seeing the words on the pages in front of Martin made him ache. He started erasing the words. He was in enough pain to not have anything else taking hold of him. The blankness of the pages calmed him down… he wondered if anyone else was going to try talking. A very small part of him wished someone would.

But not Jurgen, certainly. He seemed… a bit too pompous with how he wrote things on Martin’s pages. Curious to be sure and only that. How did Martin get so good at reading intentions?

Martin felt like he should be crying, not that any tears would come of it. He didn’t exactly feel sad, because he really didn’t feel anything. It was a numbness he was used to feeling. It was his whole person… A part of him knew that the complacency should scare him.

**Gerry**

Gerry had a simple flat. One room for the sitting room, connected to a little kitchen and a hallway that lead to the bedroom and bathroom. When Gerry got out of work for the day, Jon was indeed waiting just outside the library, just as they had discussed a few days ago. He looked a little shaken, but Gerry didn’t want to press as to why. Bad day at work perhaps? The two of them grabbed some Thai food on the way to the flat. Gerry liked it and Jon didn’t seem to mind.

“So,” Gerry said about halfway through the meal, unable to keep his excitement down any more, “Which one of us want to talk to the book first?” Out of fairness to Jon, Gerry had not looked at the book since their lunch together, and it was driving him up a wall.

Jon looked up from his food. Truth be told, he hadn’t really touched any of it; mostly, he had just been moving it around on his plate. “Um… you found the book, so by all means. I don’t really care about first contact. I just want to know what’s going on here.”

“As am I. Though… I’m curious why you aren’t more freaked out about this.” Gerry went off and placed it on the table.

“I… um, am more used to this stuff than most. My research position deals with supernatural phenomena. A lot of the stuff is fake,” Jon said this hurriedly which made Gerry grin a little, “But there are a few things that just… there aren’t any other explanations for. I’m sure you love occult stuff.”

Gerry chuckles a little. “Looks like it, doesn’t it? No, honestly. Not a huge fan, but my family is wrapped up in it, so I kinda make sure to keep myself informed. This is the first thing I’ve been interested in that’s occult.”

“So the goth look is…” Jon trailed off confused.

“Aesthetic,” Gerry grinned, “Besides, it goes well with my tattoos.” The tattoos were something his mother gave him while he was still under her care, or at least the eyes. The glyphs were something he added on later.

“It does,” Jon simply said. His eyes wandered on all the tattoos, like the way kids did. With wonder, and no judgement. Gerry rather liked it. Jon snapped out of his gaze. “So, considering this book would rather not talk to people, how do we want to start?”

Gerry pulled out a ballpoint pen, and casually twirled it around. “Maybe we can ask about the poetry first. I think it’s a good place to start.”

Jon pursed his lips. “Right, it seems to be the only thing this book cares about. Makes sense to open up to someone who also likes the subject. So, what do we write poetry back?”

“I’m not a poet.”

“Neither am I.” Jon tapped on the table. “We could edit.”

“We might end up hurting it’s feelings.”

“It’s a book,” Jon said flatly. He sighed. “I’m not really sure what else to do.”

Gerry opened up the book, wondering what would be a good conversation starter. However, as he started flipping the beginning pages, he realised that they were all blank. “That’s odd.”

“What?”

“The book is blank.”

Jon hurriedly rushed over to Gerry’s side, looking over his shoulder. “Ask it what’s wrong,” he suggested, “Something obviously must have happened. You didn’t say anything before, did you?”

“I haven’t opened it since yesterday.” Gerry stopped on a page, and wrote: <Is everything ok?>

The book came back with a reply, writing slowly. <Jurgen?>

<No. I’m Gerry, and I’m with my> Gerry glanced at Jon, not sure what they were yet. They haven’t done anything to be anything as of yet. <friend, Jon.>

The book didn’t answer.

“Let me write,” Jon asked, opening his palm to Gerry. <I’m Jon. We were reading the poetry you wrote before and wondered why it’s all missing now.>

<Does it matter?> The book asked.

Jon rolled his eyes. <Yes, otherwise we wouldn’t be asking.>

“A little harsh, Jon,” Gerry pointed out.

“It’s true though.”

“You could be a little more sensitive though. I don’t think this book can see us.”

The book had a reply. <Usually when I cross things out, they disappear for me. I guess it does for you too. I think you can do the same… who are you two?>

Gerry pulled out a different, suckier pen. <Just two dudes who came across this book and want to know more.> He felt that was good enough to get the book to open up.

<I just write poetry.>

Gerry and Jon look at each other. Jon wrote back the response. <So, if I’m correct, you are just a nameless entity who writes poetry for no one to read?>

“Jon!”

“The book can correct me if I’m wrong.” Jon says in an indignant manner.

<You got it.>

“Well, that is just sad,” Gerry said as he wrote: <So then we can name you? We have to call you something.>

<Martin… that was my name.>

“Was?” Both Jon and Gerry asked at the same time. Gerry tried remembering the contents of Martin’s poems as Jon asked for a clarification of Martin’s statement.

<Please, it hurts. Just leave me alone.>

“I hope we didn’t scare it,” Jon said.

Gerry ran through his head the things he heard about. “We probably did… you’re harsh commentary didn’t help.”

“I was being honest.”

“Harshly so. But anyway, I think I’ve heard of this before. People being so isolated that being with people scares them and they fall into themselves so much.”

“It’s called depression.”

Gerry rolled his eyes. “No, this is different. First of all, he’s in a book. He probably asked to get put in there to get out of the world.”

Jon looked at the book for a moment. <How’d you end up in there?>

Martin stayed quiet for a while. <I was attacked. Forced in here. It wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t hurt.>

Gerry felt properly bad by that point. He told Jon he was going to make some tea to clear his head. He had heard of powerful books… but people being put in them is a different thing entirely. Gerry could imagine it hurting. Not being able to breath, to die, to sleep. Just existing. It must be awful in there for Martin. He shuddered at the thought.

“So…” Jon joined Gerry in the kitchen after a time, “Martin seems to be interested in getting out.”

“Really? Did you bully him for that one?”

“No, I was nice.” Jon glared at Gerry, but fell away after a moment. “I just… I know I can be blunt. I feel it more of a kindness than anything… Though I do recognize that most people take it the wrong way.”

Gerry nodded. “I might be able to get a lead on that in a few days. I know someone who works in this stuff directly. But… I need to ask you a favor.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Ok?”

“Will you keep a hold of Martin for the time being? I’m a little worried bringing him to where I’ll be snooping around. The person I’ll be asking for help can be a bit trigger-happy with a lighter on weird books.”

“Ah… right…” Jon had a thoughtful look on his face. “Maybe I can get Martin to open up a bit more…” His eyes grew wide with realization of what he just said. “…so to speak!”

Gerry laughed. “Was that a pun?”

“Unintentional!” Jon promised hurriedly. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe… Him safe, I guess. Who puts a person in a book, though?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out.”

The tea kettle whistled and the two of them sat around the table with their tea soon enough. They checked in with Martin, who had started working on some new poetry, which made Gerry smile. He was definitely looking forward to the new work Martin was putting in. Gerry got Jon on the subject of tea making, something he had no idea Jon knew about. All was well and good until Gerry had to stand up and turn on a light.

“Ah… I didn’t realize it went so late,” Jon looked out the closest window, his eyes a little too wide.

“You do look a bit exhausted.” And scared. “Is it a long trip from here?”

Jon shrugged, and stood to get his jacket. “No longer from the institute I work at.” He bit Gerry a good night, and left the flat. Though, as he walked onto the sidewalk, Gerry noticed he was using his mobile phone as a flashlight, despite the street being well lit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: aracnaphobia


	3. Chapter 3

**Gerry**

Gerry had a lot on his mind as he was working the next day. He had to figure out how to talk with his guardian, Gertrude, which shouldn’t be too hard of a task most days. However, she had a gift for sensing lies, and he wasn’t sure what she would do with the truth in his hands.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly didn’t hear the voice of an elderly gentleman… 

“Young man…” The voice belonged to Jurgen, and Gerry, looking at this man, knew this to be true. He looked like a Jurgen. Regardless, this was that man he helped out a few days ago. “I have an inquiry I would hope you would help me with.”

“Yes… with what, specifically?” Gerry closed his book and stood up.

“I believe to have left my book here the other day, and I was wondering if it got put into the lost and found.”

Gerry starred. He actually came back for Martin… not that he really cared. “I’m sorry, the book isn’t here.”

“And where is it?”

“...not here.” Gerry wasn’t about to admit he stole the book. “Why?”

“Well, I would like it back. It is my property after all.”

“STOLEN” branded itself painfully in Gerry’s mind. “I don’t think so, unless you want to help Martin out of the book.”

Jurgen’s eyes grew wide. “...so he spoke to you?”

Gerry nodded. “Yes… and he had a lot to say about you.”

“Oh? He certainly was very coy with me. Surely there wasn’t much for him to say.”

“You never once asked him if he was ok. He had been trapped there for a very long time and you never asked him if he was fine. News flash, he isn’t.”

“Ah, you misunderstand, I didn’t have the book at first. I found it abandoned somewhere.”

Gerry squinted, and raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Ah, well,” Jorgen laughed a little uncomfortably. “I might have nicked it from someone. But what does it matter? I didn’t have the book for as long as you thought I did.”

“Long enough to have made an impression.” Gerry sighed. “How’s this? What exactly were you looking for with that newspaper?”

“Ah, yes. Well, I wanted to brush up on the details of the disappearances. Mostly looking for the names.”

“And why do you think the details match up?”

“Ah, see, I was speaking with the young man from earlier, and he said that the person he caught was… found near Clackton. I thought it was a bit of a stretch, however I wanted to see if the person in the book was from the event on the beach. Especially since the binding on it has the ocean waves. Too coincidental, wouldn’t you say?”

Gerry gritted his teeth. It was, but Martin made no mention of such things… it must be something for him to ask about later. 

“So…”

“So.” Gerry didn’t start up conversation again. He wanted nothing more to do with this man. It got very uncomfortable until a small child came up to Gerry and asked about beginner chapter books, which Gerry was more than happy to help with. By the time he got back to the desk, Jurgen was gone. 

Gertrude’s practice was across the city. For the whole trip heading over there, Gerry was wondering how to bring the subject up. It wasn’t like he could just try to find a book about haunted books. Half of the books that Gertrude owned were banned from being touched for one reason or another that she never cared to explain. He could just start off with the truth.

Gerry opened the door to the practice, a little bell tinkled to notify entry. The place wasn’t all the big. There was a desk and a few chairs for people to wait at, not that there was ever one person coming at any given time. The door to the office was open, and Gertrude looked up from some papers she was mulling over.

“Gerard,” Gertrude said with mild surprise, “I wasn’t expecting you here.”

Despite telling her time and time again, Gertrude insisted on calling Gerry “Gerard”. It felt too formal for Gerry, and certainly didn’t sound like him. “How’s things?” Gerry asked simply, walking into the office.

“Same as they usually are. I haven’t seen you in a while. All is well with the library, I imagine? Certainly haven’t seen anything in the papers.”

“Nothing newsworthy, though… I was wondering something. I had an odd encounter the other day, and wanted to know what you make of it.”

Gertrude’s interest peaked. She put down her papers, and leaned in. “What kind of odd?”

Gerry had to pause for a moment. There was something about the way she asked it that caught him off guard and for a moment he wanted to tell her everything about the day prior. However, the moment quickly passed, and he regained control of his thoughts. “I had an older gentleman come in, seemed to be into the sort of stuff you were in, asking about a series of disappearances that happened in 2013. It never got resolved, and I thought it was weird someone outside of the police was asking about it. He didn’t look like a detective, and if he was, why come to a library? Surely the police station would have more information.”

“Depends on what he was looking for.” Gertrude sighed. “A great mystery that no one has solved yet. The only thing tying the disappearances was that they all were related to the same beach, near Clacton.” There is an odd gleam in her eye, something otherworldly was staring through them, more than just Gertrude.

Gerry had a thought, but saved it. It would be something to ask Martin about. “On another note… have you heard anything about sentient books?”

“Now where did you hear that sort of thing?”

“From Mr. Not-Detective. He carried around one that apparently wrote poetry.”

Gertrude was silent for a long time. “Can’t say I’ve heard that one before. Most stories of odd books concern controlling the elements or predicting the future or other sinister things. This book did nothing else?”

Again, the pulling feeling happened, tugging at Gerry’s thoughts for everything he knew. “He.. the book, could communicate, but didn’t have very much to say.”

“Hm… now that is news. I’m going to have to look into that. Do you have a name for this gentleman?”

“Jurgen Leitner,” Gerry said immediately, even though he never really did get a name from the gentleman himself. It fit him well. “I think.” 

Gertrude seemed to recognize the name, but certainly did not voice her thoughts out loud. “I think for now, it would be best that you don’t worry about it. I’m sure there is a trick to it. Like a magician.”

Gerry sighed audibly. “Gertrude, I’m not a child.”

There was a long pause there. “Then what do you think it is then?”

“That’s why I came to you. I don’t know. But I saw it, and I don’t think a simple sleight of hand can explain a book writing itself.”

The bell on the door chimed out and a woman with a hijab walked in. She had a determined look on her face, and Gerry knew what was coming. She came to give her story. “I’ll see what I can find,” Gertrude said, a little stiff.

“And you will tell me?” Gerry insisted.

“You may not like what you hear.”

“I just want the truth.”

Gerry could have sworn she said, “That is a dangerous thing,” as he walked out.

**Jon** \- isolated experiences/hallucinations

Jon woke up a bit dazed. He was still wearing the clothes he wore to work the previous day, his messenger bag still around his shoulder. As he started waking up, he remembered why he felt awful. Elias… what else was new? His boss had been pressing more and more about personal life questions, which Jon could dodge for the most part, avoiding Martin as a conversation topic. However, it drained him utterly. He picked up his phone and realized it was already eleven and Elias left a few text messages for him. Jon vaguely wondered where Elias learned to text as he sent out a bullshit excuse as to why he missed the messages and said he would be out that day. Elias would probably see right through it, but Jon had no energy to do anything work related.

Jon dumped the contents of his bag on his bed. The Martin book was there, thankfully, as well as a running tape recorder. Jon sighed, and turned it off, thinking it must have been rather boring hearing him sleep. It wasn’t like he snored.

Jon flipped through the book, seeing if Martin added anything new. Over the past few days, Martin had been working on more poems on various subjects. Most being about the emptiness of the sea. Jon had given him some recommendations during their conversations: dogs, gardens, and tea. Martin only really took the tea suggestion.

<Good morning, Martin.>

<Is it? I haven’t seen a clock in a very long time.>

Martin never really brought it up before… Jon supposed it made sense. <No sense of time in there?>

<Not really. I only know what’s written down. You’re the only reason I know what time of day it is. Not that it matters in here.>

<That’s a rather lonely existence.>

<Nothing I’m not used to.>

Jon frowned. <Well, we are just going to have to fix that when we figure out how to get you out of there. We can… ah, sit by a window and watch the sunrise. Or sunset. Whatever you would…>

Jon felt the book vibrate. He nearly pushed the book off his lap out of shock. <Just sitting inside? Not going out to a park?> Martin wrote once the book stopped vibrating.

<Was that… were you laughing?>

<I guess… what you said was funny.>

<Certainly wasn’t meant to be.> Though Jon was smiling, relieved to know that Martin had some sense of humor. <Are you ok?> He asked it every day.

<I’m fine. Just in pain. Nothing new.>

<I’m sorry.> Jon knew it wasn’t his fault, but he just felt bad. <Gerry is finding a way to get you out.>

Martin fell quiet. It gave Jon a few moments to make himself look presentable again. Feel human again. Jon chuckled humorlessly at that. He felt like he was well past that. Martin was writing again by the time he changed clothes. Back to poetry.

Jon’s day was going along fine, until he heard a creaking sound coming from his bedroom. He was finishing making his lunch. Anyone else would have missed it or thought it be because of the building. Jon knew better. He heard this before. It had been a while though.

From under the sink, Jon pulled out a fire extinguisher and slowly opened the door to the bedroom. The only thing out of place was a rather large crack on the wall. Jon’s hands started shaking. Slowly, he grabbed the Martin book, and got out of the bedroom, closing the door ever so gently behind him. There was another creak, a little louder, and the sound of rubble coming loose. Jon knew he couldn’t stay there. He remembered the crawling and the wriggling and… Jon checked his phone. Still no word from Gerry and he wasn’t online.

Jon ran out of the apartment. He figured as long as he stayed out in public, nothing could really harm him. Not in the way they could in the dark in private with only the ever watchful eye as witness. Jon clung tight to the Martin book as he blended into the crowd.  _ Don’t be seen, don’t be noticed. I’m just another face. _

As Jon made his way to… well, he headed for Trafalgar Square if only because it was always a busy place, he noticed up ahead a face that did not exactly sit right. It was like a cloth mask, hurriedly put on and no one bothered to correct the person in question. Jon could feel the color drain from his face. He turned around, but realized there were two more of these things behind him. And one had no face at all. Jon’s eyes wandered all around him. None of the faces looked right.

“Is your name even your own?” a sinister voice whispered in Jon’s ear.

He had heard the question before, when he encountered these beings. The words themselves tugged at Jon’s identity. He bolted, clutching onto the book in his hands. He wasn’t alone this time. He had someone, two someones counting on him. He could have an existential crisis again when he found Gerry again.

The voice kept echoing in Jon’s mind, and adding more and more disjointed voices, pulling at the fabric of his very being. He eventually tripped and fell in an alleyway, not knowing where he was, and starting to second guess who he was. The book he held opened up, and there was a message waiting for him.

<Jon? Are you there?>

It snapped Jon back into himself, enough to write back before taking off again. <I’m here. There are things following me.> He couldn’t stay in one place long, else he would be taken and forgotten… Like Daniel, Sarah, and Megan.

Jon wasn’t sure how long it took for him to remember the city he was in and where he was trying to go. Occasionally, he would write a reassurance to Martin, but it was never long and never convincing enough. No, everything was not ok. Unlike the last time Jon faced these things, there was no escaping. There was no out. They were out in the real world in broad daylight and no one was taking notice. Jon nearly cried when he reached Gerry’s flat. A kind neighbor let him in and he knocked on Gerry’s door. No answer.

Jon collapsed on the floor out of exhaustion. He held the Martin book tight to his chest, and rested his head against the door, praying that Those He Did Not Know could not find him there.

A hand brought Jon out of his tired stupor with a start and Gerry loomed over him. He looked concerned, as he probably had every right to be so. “I do hope you have a good reason to be passed out on my doorstep?” he asked, a slight grin on his face.

“It’s not good,” Jon muttered, “But there is a reason.”

**Martin**

Martin was in more pain than usual. He felt panicked and frustrated. For the first time, he wanted out of the book to know what was going on. Jon was being followed, by what he had no idea. All he could do was continue asking the same question over and over again. <Are you alright?>

Once in a while, he got back some sort of response, but nothing that he really liked and nothing that told him what was going on. A driving fear radiated through him. What if Jon died? One of the first people he actually felt for gone… that was too much to bear.

How did things get the way that they did? How did Martin get trapped in a book, helpless to do anything about his fate? His memories were hazy at best, and it really was only a miracle that he even remembered his own name… actually, it wasn’t until he was asked that he could recall. What if… he was just a book? That he didn’t have any other sort of identity…

No, he did. He had to. He felt a life that felt like he lived ages ago. A loveless house… a lonely existence… a trip to the beach that went horribly wrong… What if he needed other people in order to bring himself back. It sounded tiring, but he had to try. He wanted to get himself back… He wanted to meet Jon and Gerry. If… Jon was ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: stranger shenanigans, paranoia


	4. Chapter 4

**Gerry**

“So,” Gerry put a mug of tea in front of Jon, “And let me get this right, you ran here because of paranoia?”

Jon stayed quiet, and nodded. He glanced over at the Martin book. “I should… tell him that I’m ok…”

Gerry grabbed the book before Jon and opened it up. Martin seemed a bit panicked; there were several pages of him asking about Jon and if he was ok and alive and safe. “Jon, you are the reasonable type. I know that much about you. Which is why I think your explanation is bullshit.” He quickly assured Martin that Jon was in good hands again.

Jon looked hurt. “Gerry… please.”

“Just tell me the truth, Jon,” Gerry said simply, “Whatever it is, I’ll hear it.”

Jon shook his head. “...no. You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“It’s occultist.”

“All the more reason for me to understand what is going on. Are you in trouble, Jon?”

Jon laughed nervously, and then he started crying a little. “Sorry… I just…” He patted himself down for a second then asked, “You don’t have any tape recorders, do you?”

“No… those haven’t been around in quite a while.”

Jon took a few deep breaths. “I’m not exactly a researcher. I was, and it was what I was originally hired for. But now… well… I’m more of a lab rat than anything. There are things in the world that are terrifying and I have been subjected to a lot of their antics. And I think one of them found me again…”

“The Stranger? I assume? Considering you kept saying you were being followed.” Gerry waved around the Martin Book.

Jon’s eyes widened. “So you know about them.”

“I know of them, and vaguely what they are, yes. My mother followed one of them a bit too religiously and my guardian deals with people who have met these things in one way or another.”

“It’s not just… the Stranger as you put it. There’s another one. A sort of crawling rot…”

“The Corruption? Infestation and plagues.”

Jon nodded, “It took over my apartment. Worms everywhere.”

Gerry cringed. He heard one of the accounts talking about the Corruption, and he had nightmares for about a week after.

“I didn’t know where else to go, so I tried to find you, and that was when various forms of the Stranger as you put it started following me and tried to take my identity again.”

“They attacked you before?”

“As I said,” Jon sighed, “I’m a lab rat. I don’t know what I’m being used for, besides a punching bag.”

Gerry’s eyes looked at Jon’s bare arms. “That explains all your scars.”

Jon sighed again and slumped back in his chair. “So now you know. At least generally.” His eyelids fell halfway, extenuating the bags underneath his eyes.

“Why don’t you leave?” Gerry asked after a moment. “Surely whatever you are being paid isn’t worth the torture.” 

Jon groaned, and messaged the bridge of his nose. “I’ve tried. I can’t. My soul is bound to the institute and I don’t know how to get out.”

Institute… “You mean the Magnus Institute?”

“That’s the one. You’ve heard of it?”

“Plenty of people who come and see Gertrude went to the Magnus Institute first.” Gertrude did not have a good opinion of the place, and Gerry was starting to see why. “Surely there is a way to get unbound.”

Jon shook his head. “I doubt it. Elias likes me too much to let me go. Look. It’s fine…”

“Not if you are being tortured. That’s not normal.”

Jon still looked dejected. “I can’t… You don’t know the things Elias can do. I wouldn’t be surprised that he did this because I didn’t go to work today.”

“So… is this why you’ve been… distant?” Gerry asked, realizing all the times he tried to connect with Jon and just hitting a wall.

“It’s hard for me to trust people… But I trust you.” Jon leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “I’m just tired. Please… did you find out about how to free Martin?”

Gerry shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Gertrude didn’t know anything, and she’s my only resource on this sort of stuff… that I would actually go to.”

“If there’s anyone else, I could see if I can find something out. That way you don’t have to get involved and we still get what we need.”

“The only other person I know is my mother, who is in prison and who really can’t be trusted. She can be very manipulative and controlling. I don’t want to subject you to that, considering your employer.”

“So… a dead end then?” Jon asked.

Gerry looked at the Martin book. “Martin be willing, maybe he can tell us some more details on how he got bound in a book.” Seemed to be the only real thing the two of them had currently.

Jon sighed heavily. He closed his eyes, and buried his forehead in his right fist.

“You should rest,” Gerry said, “You look awful.”

Jon snorted. “This is just my face.”

Gerry did his best to not laugh out loud; it came out as a rather large smirk. “I don’t believe that. Honestly, you are a very handsome guy when you don’t look like a zombie.”

Jon snorted at this. “Is that what I look like now?”

“A bit, yeah. Let me get you a blanket. You are more than welcome on the couch.”

Once Jon was resituated with a blanket on Gerry’s couch with the tv on some cooking channel (something that could be left on for hours without any warning about triggers), Gerry went back to his own room. “Ok, Martin,” Gerry said out loud, “Let’s find out something that can help, yes?”

Martin had written some more poetry, a little angsty, but not as depressing. His handwriting seemed a bit messier, giving off an impression of quick panicked writing.

<Hi, Martin. Gerry again. How are you doing?>

<How’s Jon?>

<He’s watching a cooking show. He’ll be alright.> A white lie, but Martin didn’t need to know the details yet. <I wanted to know what happened when you got bound to the book. If you are ok with sharing. We’ve run to a dead end, and I’m not sure where to go to get you out now.>

Martin didn’t respond for a little while. There was a spot at the top left hand corner of the page that was a slowly growing black spot of ink. <I was attacked. Some sort of hunter of the supernatural, I think. He asked a bunch of questions as to what I was, and I couldn’t answer him.>

<Did he ever give you a name?>

<No, not while I was outside of the book. I want to say his name was Tim, because he tried to talk to me once he put me in the book. I still couldn’t talk to him and I think he was mad about that.>

<Can you draw? Maybe if you give a description, I might be able to find him out and get him to tell me how he did it.> Though the name “STOKER” burned heavily in his mind, to the point of him nearly getting a headache.

<Don’t let him find me.>

<I won’t. Jon and I will keep you safe.>

<You both are too kind. I don’t deserve it.>

That made Gerry pause. <Now why do you say that?>

<I’m not really good at anything. I’m a bit useless.>

<No, I don’t think you are. And when we get you out, we will show you you’re not useless.>

The page started getting slightly damp.

<Are you crying?> Gerry wrote on a dry page.

<I’m sorry.> Martin’s handwriting was shaky, and Gerry could imagine that Martin’s voice would have wobbled very much if he was speaking.

<Don’t be. It must be hard being in there for so long.>

<It’s not that. I’ve been on my own for a long time. And away from people too. People hurt. But, you seem nice and…> The writing trailed off and more of the page became damp.

Gerry wasn’t sure how to comfort Martin. He stroked the crest of the book, putting all his feelings of good will into the motion.

Eventually, Martin started writing again. His description of Tim matched that young jock that came into the library the day before. Gerry got the vague sense that this person was well on his way to falling to the Hunt… though he wasn’t quite there yet. 

<Thank you, Martin.> Gerry wrote when Martin was done. <This helps a lot. Where did you run into Tim?>

<I don’t know. Somewhere in a city. Probably London.>

<Probably?”

<I was like inside a sort of snowglobe for a very long time. By a fog covered beach. I started walking and ended up out of it and well, Tim was the first person I ran into and he didn’t want me to get to anyone.>

<Do you know of the Lonely?>

<Yes… it didn’t call itself that, but it feels right.>

<Tim probably thought you were an avatar.>

<What does that mean?>

<Avatars carry out the mission of their patron. So for the Lonely, it would be bringing that feeling of loneliness to other people and dragging them into wherever you ended up. That snowglobe. That’s actually a good way of putting it.>

Martin was silent for a long while. <Maybe I am.> He eventually wrote.

<We can figure that out when we get you out.>

<You aren’t scared?>

<I’m more worried about you being in pain by being in a book. It sounds like an awful existence.>

<Gerry, I’m scared to come out. I know it's painful in here, but I know I won’t have to deal with people here. People are just.> Martin didn’t finish the sentence.

<People can be rough, I understand that. But we need other people. To feel needed, to be loved, and welcomed. I’ll take that awkwardness any day if it means I get to have friends.>

Martin left the conversation at that. Probably to go think.

<If you are writing poetry again, can you write one about cows?> Gerry asked, then closed the book.

Jon was nearly passed out on the couch when Gerry went to check on him. The scar worn man ended up resting his head on the couch arm, glasses completely askew, and the blanket wrapped around him tight. Gerry carefully took off Jon’s glasses and put them safely on the coffee table. He did leave the cooking channel on, with the volume turned down, even though he personally didn’t care for it. He took out his laptop, and got to work in trying to find Tim.

  
  


**Martin**

<Cows - furry creatures

Eat grass

Milk?

Outdoors: fence - wooden, sky, grass>

Martin looked at his word pile, not sure what more to do with it. Gerry said to make a poem about cows, and Martin was determined to deliver. The problem was that he was having trouble getting started. Most of his poems came from the heart and just flowed out of him like a tap turned on. But a poem about cows… that was new. A challenge. 

Cows were a very different topic than what Martin had grown accustomed to. They were living, moving creatures… and they would be warm too, considering they had a heartbeat. Martin couldn’t remember the last time he felt that sensation. He reckoned he must have once, but all he can remember the cold numbness of the snowglobe world. So… whatever the opposite of that was. 

Martin flipped through the conversations he had recently with Gerry and Jon. There was a feeling he felt going through those. It seemed to quell his pain for a moment. 

<What I wouldn’t give

to run my hands against 

the comforted warmth

of a Highland cow?>

Well… at least that was a start.

**Jon**

Jon felt himself being dragged down through dirt. He couldn’t move, and despite there being soil all around him, he could breathe fine in the present moment. Down, down, down he went, like a lifeless doll. The further he went, the warmer his surroundings became. He could feel himself sweating. His breathing became ragged, and then he couldn’t anymore, as soil filled in the gaping hole. The dirt packed tighter and tighter around Jon, singeing his skin and boiling Jon.

Jon let out a cry of terror, as his eyes shot open, escaping the nightmare he was trapped in. He tried getting out of the blanket that surrounded him, but he was entangled in it.

“Jon?” Gerry quickly helped Jon out of his entrappings. “Jon? Are you alright?”

Jon couldn’t speak. He was shaking madly. He held his own shoulders and crouched down to the ground, back against the wall. Gerry put an arm around Jon. It wasn’t tight, or constricting. It was just there. Present. Jon leaned into it, as a few panicked tears escaped his eyes. “I’m sorry…” Jon eventually said, “Nightmares.”

“I can only imagine, with being a guinea pig for fear.” Gerry chuckles a little.

Jon frowned. “You don’t need to be poetic.”

“I’m being literal. These entities are just different fears realized. No one knows why they are here or what they want.” Gerry handed Jon back his glasses. “I have a lead from Martin. A guy named Tim Stoker.”

The name clicked instantly with Jon. “I know him. I think.” Stoker isn’t exactly a popular last name. “He worked at the Institute for a little while when I first began. He was let go… I guess he was unstable based on what I heard when I asked around. He seemed fine every time I talked to him.” Not to mention Tim stopped responding to messages in general, to the point where Jon stopped texting him. “I have his Facebook.”

“Is he an ex?” Gerry grinned a little. 

Jon shook his head. They never really officially dated, though there were a few times where Jon could have sworn some outings felt more like a date than simply just hanging out. “He wasn’t my type.”

“And goth is?”

Jon pouted, and Gerry took that as a victory that the poor man was getting over his nerves for the current moment. “I don’t actually have a type. Not look, in any case.”

“So what do you look for on a date?”

“Oh, well, usually I don’t get that far. Most people are just looking for a quick hookup, and I just… don’t like that.”

“It’s not what you get out of a relationship.” Gerry said in a factual manner. 

“…sorry if it bursts any bubbles.”

“Not really. I don’t mind. I still think you're cute as hell and I still want to date you, despite all this.”

Jon scoffed at that. “You’re crazy.”

“Probably.” Gerry smiled. “Makes things fun though. Speaking of which, I have an idea.” He got up and went rummaging in the junk drawer in the kitchen for a permanent marker.

“For?”

“Well, considering your string of bad luck, I think you need a lucky charm.”

Jon shook his head. “They’re just trinkets.”

“I’m not talking about a rabbit’s foot.” Gerry rolled his eyes. “I’m talking about a ward. What’s your favorite lucky symbol?”

“Ah… a horseshoe, I guess?” It wasn’t something Jon ever really thought about before. 

“Basic, but ok. Sit here and roll up your sleeve.”

Jon pursed his lips, but did as he was told. Gerry was shocked with how badly scared Jon was all along his arm. There were burn marks and divets and gashes that made Jon seem more like a soldier than a researcher.

“So, what are the stories of the scars?” Gerry asked as he got to work drawing the horseshoe. The tips facing upwards, as Gerry did want this to help in any way possible.

“I’d rather not talk about it… none of them are good stories.”

“That is up for debate. Just because a story doesn’t have a good ending doesn’t make it a bad story. People watch tragedies all the time, and they’re meant to end terribly.”

“Do you watch them?”

“No. If I’m going to go dark, I’m going to watch horror and root for the character who makes it out in the end. That way I don’t get attached to the ones that die.”

“That’s one way to do it. I don’t really watch anything outside of documentaries.”

“And cooking shows.”

Jon smiled slightly and shook his head. “You were the one to put it on.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.”

Jon didn’t deny it, though he spent most of that time unconscious. “I got some ideas for meals.”

“You cook?”

“When I have the energy to do so, yes. It’s rather rewarding to make something with your own hands.”

Gerry hummed in agreement. “I’m taking some creative liberties with this, I hope that’s alright.”

“You were the one who wanted to do this.”

“Your body.”

“As long as it doesn’t look embarrassing. Not that anyone is going to see this.”

“I will.”

Jon snorted, “Besides you.”

“And we are going to have to show Martin when we get him out of the book.”

Jon sighed heavily, but agreed on that front. “I’m sorry I had to drag you into my problems,” He eventually said.

“Better that than taken. I’ve heard stories about the things that attacked you today. Bugs that infest living hosts. Strangers that steal faces. The stuff of nightmares, and I only heard of the survivors. I can’t imagine the fate of those who weren’t able to make it out. People whose fates will never be known.” Gerry shook his head. “We are getting a bit dark here.”

“It’s a dark world out there,” Jon mused. 

“I can imagine worse. And for both our sakes, I’m not going to share.” Gerry pointed the sharpie right at Jon’s nose. “Another time, maybe when you aren’t running for your life.”

Jon sighed, and let the atmosphere of the quiet apartment settle in. “What are you doing? Drawing, I mean. I felt the horseshoe, but you are doing other things.”

“I said I was taking creative liberties.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I’m putting a warding on,” Gerry explained, “One that protects you from assholes.” Jon snorted; he highly doubted it worked like that. “Maybe not exactly, but it does protect you from those who would do you harm. So, I’m hoping your employer will leave you well enough alone for the time being.”

“I’ll still have to face him. I can’t leave,” Jon reminded Gerry.

“You’ve made that clear. But, possibly he’ll be more lenient. Maybe not as cruel.”

“I think you would take away his personality if you do that.”

Gerry laughed a little. “You have an interesting sense of humor.”

“Most people are put off by it.”

“I’m not most people. There. Want to see?” Gerry pulled out a mirror, and angled it so that Jon could see.

“That’s way too cool for me.”

“Well, give it a few days. Maybe you’ll get used to it. I think it looks great on you.” Gerry hesitated for a moment, a thought clearly crossing him. Jon wanted him to say what was on his mind, but never verbally asked. “So. You are protected, we will see this Tim fellow the first moment we can. Want to watch a movie?”

“As long as it isn’t anything… exciting.”

Gerry snickered. “You sound like an old man.”

“I feel like one,” Jon groaned.

“Then how’s this. We make dinner together and we can watch whatever you want.”

Jon agreed, though he only gave suggestions and tips as Gerry did most of the cooking that night. Jon’s mind was elsewhere. They ended up watching another cooking show, Chopped. It was strangely fun, and Jon made a mental note to keep the show in mind when he was looking for something to watch. Jon only half paid attention up until the sun started to set and Gerry had to turn on the lights; at that point, Jon was a little more alert.

“You can borrow some of my clothes, if you want,” Gerry said, giving Jon a towel.

Jon nodded. “If… I… I’d rather not be alone tonight. I get if you don’t want to…”

Gerry took a hold of Jon’s hands. “It’s ok. The bed is big enough for two people and I promise to leave you alone.”

Jon took his time in the shower, and flopped on the bed immediately after, taking as little space as possible. The blankets were soft, and Jon just sunk into them. And nearly passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He could trust he was safe for a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: vivid nightmares, choking, claustrophobia


	5. Chapter 5

**Jon**

“I still don’t think it was a great idea to leave Martin at the apartment,” Jon said as the two of them waited at Piccadilly Circus for Tim, “What if someone breaks in?”

“No one is going to find Martin,” Gerry reassured Jon for the fifth time that day, “He’s in a place no one would ever look.”

“In the sock drawer… right…”

“Under. People look in things all the time, but rarely underneath unless they are a professional thief.”

“Were you?”

That made Gerry laugh, and Jon really wasn’t sure if it was because he was right or wrong. “I really wouldn’t be at a library if I was a professional thief. I read some books though.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you. The librarian thing could be a rouse.”

“Now that would be clever.”

Jon coughed. He found Tim, walking right towards him. Tim seemed… stressed. His mind certainly wasn’t in the meet up, and Jon wondered why he agreed to it in the first place.

“Good to see you, Jon.” Tim smiled, though it wasn’t the Tim Stoker™ grin that everyone knew about in the Institute.

“Likewise,” Jon said, “Um… this is my friend, Gerry. We, ah, have a few questions.”

“Oh, you’re that librarian from the other day.”

Gerry gave Jon a look; Jon tried not to look annoyed. Right, the goth-punk thing kinda sets Gerry apart from everyone else.

“About what?” Tim asked friendly enough, “I’m all ears.”

“Why did you want Jorgen?” Gerry asked, “He seemed like a nice enough guy.”

Tim’s face fell. “Oh, you have no idea. Leitner is a menace, and I finally found him. He stole one of my books and claimed that he had no idea what happened to it.” Tim scoffed, “Lies.”

Jon tensed up at the name “Leitner”.

“You mean the book he left behind?” Gerry clarified. 

Tim opened his mouth, then closed it and thought what Gerry just said. “You have it?” He sounded surprised.

“I have _him_. You kidnapped a person and stuffed him in a book.”

Tim’s face hardened. “Look, whoever is in the book isn’t human. He has powers that could harm people and I for one am not interested in having him hurt anyone.”

“He’s in pain,” Jon spoke up, “And I do think he is human. Sounds human enough when we talk with him.”

“You… well, yes, Jon, the book is going to do anything to convince you that it’s human and to free it and…”

Gerry snapped his fingers. “Look, we aren’t here to debate about a person’s humanity. We want to know what you did and how to get Martin out of the book.”

“Like I’m going to tell you.” Tim rolled his eyes. “Everyone is better off with him there.”

“And what if we promised we would make sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone? Because, honestly, I think that Martin is panicking in that book.”

“He’s an avatar of the Lonely. He’s loving it there probably.”

“He’s in pain. Said so several times himself, and actually felt us connecting with him. No, he doesn’t like it in there.” Gerry walked right into Tim’s face, “How’d you do it?”

Tim sighed, and pushed Gerry back. “There are several ways to bound someone to a book. There’s one where you write how someone dies on their own skin and sew it into this black book and you can bring back their ghost for a small period of time.”

Gerry squinted; Jon squirmed at the thought.

“I never said I did that; the book you have doesn’t work like that. There was a book I found once that was Spiral-Bound that could trap people within it’s pages by marking them with a particular symbol. I found a way to replicate that, and have been dealing with dangerous people in that way. They can’t be killed, so this is the only way I know how to get them off the street.”

“And to get him out?” Jon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Take the symbol off the book,” Tim shrugged unhelpfully, “I’ve never actually tried it. Never wanted to.”

Jon couldn’t help but feel a nagging at the back of his head. That this couldn’t be how to get Martin out of the book. It felt just a little too easy.

“Just so you know, if I hear about people disappearing in London, I will find you.” Tim got right into Gerry’s face, shoving a finger against Gerry’s chest.

“And do what?” Gerry didn’t move an inch. “Kill me? That would make you as bad as those you hunt.”

That seemed to snap Tim out of whatever road of thought he was traversing down. He backed off. “Just know that I’ll know it’s your fault.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Jon suggested, “Just so that you don’t go beating up my boyfriend for something he didn’t do.”

Tim looked shocked and Gerry smiled a little. “You should get better friends,” was all Tim said to Jon, before leaving.

“That wasn’t helpful,” Jon muttered.

“Oh on the contrary, I have something to work with now,” Gerry said, “Something to tell Gertrude so that we can get a better way of getting Martin free.”

“I thought you said she was a pyromaniac?”

“And she still is. But, when push comes to shove, I think she will always lean towards knowledge.”

Jon frowned. Elias was like that too.

**Gerry**

Gerry and Jon sat in the waiting area of Gertrude’s practice. Jon sat there stiff in the shoulders, hands wrapped around his knees. He had been like that since they came to the agreement to go speak with Gertrude. Gerry asked if Jon just wanted to go home, but Jon said no.

The door eventually opened up and a tall woman with short cut blonde hair ran out, a murderous look in her eyes. She did not give Gerry or Jon any second glance, and Gerry was a little grateful for it.

“Back so soon, Gerard?” Gertrude asked, though she didn’t sound surprised like she did before.

“I found out more about the book I was asking about, and I need your opinion.”

Gertrude looked over at Jon, who pointed to Gerry. “I’m with him,” Jon quickly said.

“Well… why don’t you both come in then.” This wasn’t a question, even though it should have been. “So, what is this book then?”

Gerry took a piece of paper and started drawing to the best of his memory what the symbol on it was. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough. “It was a book some supernatural hunter created based off of. It has Spiral abilities, according to him, and can trap a person within its pages. We want to free one of these people and what the guy told us about freeing people wasn’t… great.”

“And who was this?”

“Tim Stoker.” The words escaped Gerry before he could stop himself.

Gertrude nodded. “I’ve spoken with him once. Came here to tell his story and really didn’t like any suggestion I gave him to move on. I can’t say I’m surprised he is going through a crusade, though he should be very careful.”

“He said to get rid of the symbol, but I don’t think that will do anything.”

Gertrude looked at the symbol. “You’d be right. Whatever is bound to the book is bound to the pages, not the symbol.”

“Who.” When Gertrude gave Gerry a confused look, Gerry clarified, “Whoever, not whatever. It’s a person trapped in there.”

“Could be. Or could be something that knows how to act human. Either way, I’d recommend not to do this, Gerard.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Jon asked.

Gertrude raised an eyebrow. “What of it?”

“Would you actively condemn an innocent because you thought it would get you hurt?”

“That is an interesting take of the events.”

“It’s what I heard you say.” Jon had a hard look on his face.

Gertrude took all this information in, then looked at Gerry. “Can I safely assume you know what it is I know and deal with?”

“For the most part.”

Gertrude got up and pulled a small book off of the bookshelf and handed it to Gerry. “This should have what you need to counteract that symbol. I can tell you believe you know what you are doing. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. I expect the book back when you are done.”

Gerry nodded, and took the book. “Thank you.”

“What was Tim doing here?” Jon asked.

“A friend of yours?”

“Acquaintance.” Jon lied, his teeth gritted.

Gertrude nodded once. “This was some time ago. His brother went missing and he wanted to tell his story. It didn’t give him any satisfaction of the matter, and he decided to go off on his own, even deeper into all this. I assume you are no stranger to the things that rule over this world.”

Jon shook his head and stood up.

“Thanks again,” Gerry said, “I’ll tell you what happens.”

“Please do, Gerard. Good luck.”

The journey home for the pair of them was quiet. Gerry spent it looking through the book, and Jon didn’t have much at all to say.

“Do you think the apartment will be left untouched?” Jon asked quietly about halfway through the journey.

“Yes… why, do you think something would have turned up?”

Jon nodded. “There have been days where I come home and the place is ransacked, or there’s stuff left or there’s stuff missing… I just… what if Martin isn’t there.”

“He will be. Once again, I put him somewhere very safe. No one is going to find him.” Jon breathed, and held onto Gerry’s hand. Gerry squeezed it. “Everything will be fine.” He said this more to comfort himself than to comfort Jon.

**Martin**

Martin was tense, though that was to be expected. He hadn’t heard much from Jon and Gerry since the two of them were figuring out how to get him out of the book. Gerry would always update Martin at some point he kept calling “evening” and tell Martin his poems were wonderful. Martin didn’t believe him, but thought the sentiment was nice anyway.

<Martin, Gerry here. We are going to try something. Bear with us, ok?>

<Did you figure it out?> Martin stared at the words, hoping that he would get a message back soon. No response… he hoped it was just because they were busy doing whatever they were doing. Were they… really getting him out? They all had been talking about it for a long time now, but a part of Martin didn’t really believe it. He should have felt more panicked about the situation; instead, it made him feel warm. It was an odd feeling, the warmth. It made him feel real, which was something he couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

Suddenly, Martin could feel a force grab at him and drag him from the place he had been trapped in. Martin resisted at first, not sure what else to do. But then, he let go. He didn’t want to be in pain anymore, so whatever the force was, for good or ill, it would be an end to it.

He was thrown onto the ground, and he ached terribly. He sat up, and held himself by the shoulders, eyes still closed. He wasn’t sure how to feel exactly. He could breath, and while he ached, it wasn’t like the pain of being bound to a book.

“Martin?” a gentle voice said. A hand rested on his own.

Martin slowly opened his eyes. He was in a flat somewhere, certainly not one he recognized. There were two people in front of him. One was a goth man, tattoos all over his arms, and a few choice piercings on his face. The other was a tired looking man with scars all over his face and his long hair messily tied back. “So you two are real then?” Martin’s voice was horse and rusty.

The goth laughed a little.

“Yes,” the scared man said, “We’re very real. I’m Jon.”

Martin blinked a few times. “I… sorry… I’m just…” The words can’t come out of Martin’s mouth.

“Overwhelmed?” Gerry, Martin assumed the goth was Gerry, said. “Why don’t we get over to a couch? It’s a little more comfortable than the floor.”

Martin nodded cautiously. The motion felt foreign to him. With the help of both Jon and Gerry, Martin was able to stand up and make it over to the couch. Jon ran off to get tea for everyone. Martin couldn’t help but stare at his hands.

“Better?” Gerry asked.

“A little.” Martin had his eyes closed, because everything just was a lot. From so long of not having much external stimulus, this was a lot. He flexed his hands, and then started feeling the couch he sat on. “It’s a nice couch.”

“It’s not, really. I got it years ago, and it was a used thing too.”

Jon eventually came back in again, and pressed a mug of tea into Martin’s hands. It was warm to the touch, and Martin quickly tried to give it back to Jon. It was a little more than he was ready for yet.

“Sorry,” Martin muttered, a bit embarrassed. He could feel himself shaking. There was so much going on to take in, and Martin knew he couldn’t process it all. He was sure he was hungry, he hadn’t eaten anything in so long. He was chilled, but he was used to that by then. Honestly, the one thing he really wanted to do was sleep. His body shut off so that it could reboot in a sense. He laid his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

“I don’t blame him for passing out,” Gerry whispered. Martin could feel the couch shift as Gerry got up. 

A bony hand slipped onto Martin’s forehead and he immediately opened his eyes. Jon was hovering over him, with at first a concerned look, then it swiftly turned to guilt when he realized Martin was still awake. “Sorry,” Jon said immediately.

“You didn’t have to wake him up,” Gerry chided Jon playfully as he came back into the room with a giant, thick blanket.

“He didn’t,” Martin mumbled. You can’t wake up a person who wasn’t really asleep to begin with.

“Here. Whether or not you are going to pass out, you might as well have a blanket.” Gerry draped the blanket over Martin, who snuggled in it automatically. The fabric was soft… a feeling that Martin never knew he missed. “We’ll be in the next room over, ok?”

Martin nodded at first, and then something grabbed his heart and plunged it into his stomach. “Wait…” he said weakly. It was so quiet, he doubted anyone heard it. The sound was stuck in his throat for only him to hear.

Much to his surprise, both Jon and Gerry turned to look at him. “Are you ok?” Gerry asked.

Martin froze, unsure of what to say. Yes he was fine. No he was not fine. Both thoughts fought each other in his mind.

“We can stay,” Jon suggested, “We could put on a movie or podcast or something.”

Gerry moved back to his spot on the couch, his hand close to Martin’s. “We don’t mind either way,” Gerry gives Martin a comforting smile… 

...and that’s what hits Martin hard. He doesn’t know why, besides the awakening of feelings that he has had caged up for years. He wanted to cry, but he was too tired for that. He just felt smothered by his own feelings… it was agonizing. Slowly, he moved his hand to cover Gerry’s. The goth was warm. “Stay?” Martin asked, looking as best he could in Gerry’s eyes.

“Of course.” Gerry moved closer to Martin, and put an arm around him. It felt nice, and Martin sunk into it. “Jon,” Gerry hissed. Jon sat next to Martin’s other side. He gingerly put his head on Martin’s shoulder; Jon too was warm.

Martin could feel his thoughts go hazy. His anxieties and feelings were melting away and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t in any sort of pain.

“Is it just me, or is it cold?” Jon asked, keeping his voice down best he could.

“It’s probably Martin,” Gerry agreed, “I have more blankets if need be.”

Gerry’s arm disappeared and there was more shifting; Gerry probably getting another blanket. Martin felt his glasses getting taken off. Gerry joined them once again on the couch after a bit.

“You have a bed,” Jon hissed.

“Sure, but the party is out here.” Gerry put his head on Martin’s shoulder.

“Shouldn’t we have suggested, I don’t know, a better set up?”

“Why? I think this is plenty comfortable.”

“I’ll remind you when you are complaining about back pain tomorrow.”

Gerry chuckled lightly, scaring Martin a little and his eyes shot open. Jon didn’t take notice, as he was taking his own glasses off and putting them on the coffee table next to Martin’s. Martin closed his eyes again.

“Why are we doing this?” Jon mused.

“This?”

“Yes… not that I don’t like this, but what if Martin doesn’t actually...”

“He can reprimand us come morning then. I know for a fact that those who get taken by the Lonely need to know they are loved to drive it away. So…” Martin could imagine Gerry making a broad gesture to show off the current situation. “Jealous that you cannot use him as a pillow all to yourself?”

“No… I just… think it’s weird… that’s all.”

“We can sort it out later.”

Martin knew they continued talking, he could hear their voices wash over him. He smiled a little as he drifted off to sleep proper.


	6. Chapter 6

**Jon**

Jon flinched awake, curled up on the couch, with his head on Martin’s lap. He blinked, and sat up; Martin’s hand falling away from Jon’s chest in the process. Gerry and Martin were still asleep, not really moving from the previous night with the exception of Martin’s head flopped over to the other side. Jon felt as though he should have remembered the dream he had, but the details fell away. Silk threads tied around his fingertips.

As quietly as he could, Jon snuck away into the kitchen and pulled out his phone. Elias had been trying to contact him for the past few days, and Jon half expected for his employer to do something. Fire him for being compromised for whatever experiments Jon was forced into. Jon chuckled humorlessly. He wished.

<I know you aren’t sick. You’ve rested long enough. I need you at work.> Elias had messaged him. Jon didn’t want to listen to any of the voicemail messages. None of them were going to be good, that was for certain.

Jon sighed and wrote a small note for Gerry about where he was and promised he would be back later. Not sure when later was going to come, but it had to come at some point. He stuck the note on Gerry’s fridge, and headed out of the flat. He thought he heard his name being called, but Jon ignored it. He… needed to leave. He didn’t want Elias sending anything to compromise Gerry’s flat. Jon would just feel awful.

Most everyone on Jon’s commute stared at him. He didn’t blame them; he must look awful. He didn’t exactly take the time to worry about his appearance before going out. He did fix his ponytail while riding the Tube.

Elias, of course, was waiting at the front entrance to the Institute. He had a smirk on his face that just… grated at Jon. “Welcome back, Jon.”

“What do you want?” Jon asked, trying to walk his way past Elias.

His boss, however, refused, moving to block all of Jon’s attempts to walk further in. “I wish to know where you have been. It’s not like you to miss work.”

“As I said, I wasn’t feeling well. I’m still not.”

Elias squinted. “I see. Well, you are here now, so that means you can work.”

“I cannot focus well enough. I can bring some work home with me, and return next week.”

“Well, you can still do that, but there is something that doesn’t require much of anything that I would like for you to do.”

Jon groaned. He wasn’t going to get out of it. “Fine… what?”

Elias grinned, and an unsettled feeling weighs down on Jon. Like someone appeared right behind Jon and stared at him with eyes full of judgement. He of course, looked to see if the feeling was right. No one was there, but he noticed all the eyes in that entrance hall. From not only the pictures, but the decorations etched into the building. “Follow me, Jon.”

Elias guided Jon down into the basement, into the interrogation room. On the table were three books. Elias motioned Jon to enter. “All you have to do is choose a book, just one, and hold it for an hour. You can read it if you wish, but you must hold it.” He closed the door, leaving Jon on his own.

Jon sighed, and got a proper look at the books. They all looked old, and their covers were blank of any pictures. There was even dust still lingering on them. Jon didn’t like the look on any of them, but knew that the longer he waited, the longer it would be for him until he would be able to leave. He chose the middle one, and blew off the dust from it. He could feel the dread from it seep into his fingers. Jon sat in the chair, and held the book close, hoping the hour would pass.

The feeling of dread crawled to the palms of his hands, to his wrists, to his arms, and Jon felt himself opening the book. The dread started creeping faster the more Jon tried to will himself to stop. The first page of the book said it was a Leitner. The next gave the title: “Web Trapped”. Memories of a childhood trauma started creeping back into Jon’s immediate consciousness, and he was more desperate to run out of the room, Elias be damned. But he was stuck in the chair, his legs no longer his to control. The following pages of the book talked of a spider working its web. How it trapped its victims and fed itself. Jon couldn’t stop reading… all he could do was watch. Tears were running down his face. He couldn’t… he couldn’t… he…

At some point, Jon got the distinct impression he was on the ground. His eyes hurt, but he opened them all the same. He was still in the room, the two untouched books still on the table. The book he had chosen, open on the ground, centimeters away from his fingertips. Jon himself was lying on the ground, the chair knocked over. Everything felt hazy, and Jon had no energy to get up.

The door opened, and Elias came into the room, lightly kicking the book closed. He got into Jon’s face, a grin on his face. “Well… you did a nearly impressive job. However, you didn’t last the full hour.”

Jon could feel himself pale. His eyes were wide and starting to tear.

“Shall we try again? I’ll let you choose one of the other books, if you prefer.”

Jon wished he could pass out again, but he was too afraid what would happen to his unconscious body if he did so.

**Martin**

Martin woke up feeling warm. He hadn’t felt like that in a very long time; he decided he liked it. It was a comfortable feeling. Though, has he got his head realigned with the rest of his body, his neck ached from the awkward position he had been in. Maybe next time, he’d lie down before passing out.

Jon and Gerry were nowhere to be seen, but there was a radio playing nearby, quietly playing heavy rock. Gerry was in the kitchen making breakfast. He smiled at Martin who stood in the doorway.

“How are you feeling?” Gerry asked, “Want to try tea again?”

Martin nodded. “Better than yesterday.”

“That’s all we can hope for. I hope you like pancakes.”

Martin smiled for a moment, then looked around. “Where’s Jon?”

Gerry’s face fell, and Martin assumed the worst for a moment. “He had to go to work. Something came up I think, or else I would hope he would have stayed.”

“And do you…”

“I called out today. I thought it would be better to see what you would need going forward. That’s if you wanted to stay. I won’t force you.”

“I don’t really know where I would go.” Martin didn’t really remember his life before the book. Vague notions from what he told Gerry before, but nothing concrete. No real memories. “So I might as well stay… if it really is ok?”

“With a handsome guy like you, hell yeah.” Gerry grinned brightly.

Martin blushed and shuffled backwards slightly. “You don’t have to be this nice,” he muttered.

“And if I want to?” Gerry continued grinning; Martin’s face morphed into a socially pained expression. “I’m not joking, I really think you’re attractive.”

Martin continued to blush. “Thank you…?” he said, not sure what else to say. Gerry served breakfast; Martin didn’t eat much of it because it felt weird. He felt bad.

“It just means Jon can have some when he gets back. Or if you feel hungry later. First come first serve.”

The two of them spent the day figuring out what Martin’s boundaries were. In-taking food and water was difficult. He was rather shaky on his legs if he stood for long, and his grip wasn’t all that strong. He broke a few mugs, which he felt badly for. Upon the forth one, he actually yelled.

“Fuck this!”

Which made Gerry laugh hard. Martin did try to apologize, but Gerry wouldn’t heed any of it. “I think that was the first sign of a personality that you’ve had so far.”

“Swearing isn’t a personality.”

“No, but the reaction was. I was half expecting you to still just stare at the mug with a deadpan stare like you did the other times.”

“…It wasn’t that dead pan, surely.”

“It kinda was.”

Martin groaned quietly.

“We’ll get you back on your own two feet in no time,” Gerry assured Martin.

It was just that… Martin wasn’t used to being the one needing care. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way, and figured it was another thing lost to the fog. He felt awkward needing help, and he wanted to do more.

It wasn’t until the sun started to set that the two of them started to worry about Jon. Martin had been dozing, still being very overwhelmed by the slightest stimulus, and noticed Gerry continuously looking out the window and checking his phone.

“Som’in wrong?” Martin muttered, stretching a little.

“I still haven’t heard back from Jon… I hope he’s ok. The place he works at isn’t… great.”

“Dull?” was the only thing that came to mind for Martin.

“Worse. They torture him I believe.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Should be. I have half a mind to go grab him.”

“Why not?”

Gerry looked over at Martin. “I don’t know if it would make it any worse for him or not. I don’t want to cause him more problems.”

Martin pursed his lips, and leaned back again in his chair. “Sitting around for him though doesn’t help either.”

“You have an idea?”

‘No,’ Martin thought miserably. “Surely there is something we can do?”

Gerry thought about it. “Might be good to prepare sleeping arrangements. Someone can take the couch…” Gerry fell silent. “I’m actually not sure how to make this work. I might have to get an air mattress.” He laughed a little at that.

“So let’s do that. And we can leave a message for Jon.” Martin was starting to feel better already.

“Are you sure about going out?”

“I’ll have you.” Martin couldn’t stop the words before they escaped his mouth. He blushed.

Gerry smiled warmly, “I won’t argue with that.”

**Gerry**

Gerry was tense the whole time getting the air mattress. Martin seemed to be fine, though he stayed very close to Gerry the whole time, panicking when people got too close to him. He wanted to know where Jon was and what happened. He was also worried how Jon would react if he got back to Gerry’s apartment and it was empty.

As the two of them sat on the Tube, waiting for their stop to come up, Gerry kept scratching a tattoo on the back of his left hand. It was one of the ones his mother forced him to have. A token to the thing she worshiped: the all seeing Eye. It always irritated him when he was nervous about things he didn’t know. 

Martin roughly shook Gerry’s shoulder. “Tell me that’s not Jon.”

Gerry looked to where Martin was pointing. The platform they just arrived at didn’t have too many people. One in particular stood out from all the rest. He looked like a zombie, without the rotting flesh. His eyes were glazed over, and was leaning against a pillar holding the station ceiling up. His long hair was down, making him look nearly wild. There were bags underneath his eyes, that Gerry had noted before, but were worse at that moment. “That’s Jon…”

The doors opened up, and Gerry called out to Jon, standing in the doorway.

Jon looked up, and it broke Gerry’s heart. It was a look of utter defeat, something that Gerry had seen with pictures of his father. There weren’t many. And it was the later ones that stuck out to Gerry the most. That despite all his friends and colleges said about how he felt, he no longer could lie to a camera about his feelings. Jon was able to get in the carriage before the doors closed, but only just.

“What happened, Jon?” Gerry asked, standing in front of Jon and Martin as the train continued on its trip on the tracks.

Jon didn’t say anything. He merely sat there, staring at the ground. Gerry was going to kill Jon’s employer, whoever the asshole was.

The train jerked suddenly, nearly sending Gerry to the ground despite having been holding one of the support poles. “What’s going on?” Gerry asked, more to himself than anyone else.

Jon was shaking and Martin looked absolutely confused. “Did someone pull the break?”

Gerry looked around the car. It was the first time he noticed it was just the three of them. He looked out the windows, but that didn’t do much good as the walls of the Tube were right against the car.

“Jon? Jon, you need to breathe.”

Indeed, Jon was having a rough time getting oxygen to his brain. It dawned on Gerry what this issue could be… the Buried liked to lurk in the Underground. It certainly seemed like the three of them were to be its next victims…

“I’m going to go see what’s going on,” Gerry said, as calm as possible, “Make sure Jon doesn’t pass out?”

Martin nodded.

Gerry walked to the end of the car, and looked through the window of the door. There were people in the next car over, and they seemed concerned, but not too worried. Gerry ran to the other end of the car, and the same thing there.

“Sorry for the delay,” the PA said, “We will resume motion momentarily.”

“Hear that, Jon,” Martin said, “Everything is going to be fine.”

Gerry crouched right in front of Jon, and took his hands. “I guess it’s hard to remember that most things just have mundane explanations.”

Jon was eventually able to calm down as the train resumed motion. He passed out before they got to their stop, and he was very groggy when they woke him.

“Believe me, you can pass out immediately when we get home,” Gerry said, “But at least get there so it doesn’t look like we are carrying a dead body.”

Jon said some sort of retort, but he muttered it too quietly for either Gerry or Martin to hear.

The walk home was uneventful. Gerry was grateful for that, for Jon’s sake. Immediately getting into Gerry’s flat, Jon crashed on the couch. Gerry and Martin shared a look. Martin placed a blanket over Jon as Gerry inflated the air mattress.

“What do you think happened?” Martin asked as they both got ready for bed.

Gerry pursed his lips. “I don’t know. Something bad that would make him on edge about the entities that play with this world. Stuff like the Lonely.”

“There’s more?” Martin’s eyes grew wide.

Gerry put his arms around Martin’s shoulders and put his head against Martin’s head. “Yes, unfortunately there are. But let’s not think about that now. It’s the stuff of nightmares.” Quite literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: psychological torture, being physically controlled by unseen force, panic response


	7. Chapter 7

**Martin**

Martin woke up with Gerry shaking him awake. “I have to go to work,” he explained once Martin got his glasses on, “Make sure Jon doesn’t run off.”

“You think he will?”

Gerry snorted breathfully. “I know he will. I really don’t care what happened at work, he needs rest and some calming content… I don’t have any good books, but there’s always the telly. I’ll see if I can bring something home tonight.”

Martin breathed. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“I know. But I’ll be back. I promise. Just… keep an eye on Jon, and take care of yourself.”

Martin nodded. He didn’t like the fact that Gerry had to leave, but there wasn’t anything for it. Martin was just glad he wasn’t the only one in the apartment… he chuckled to himself. After all that time being fine with being alone, he had never expected to be wanting to be with other people. But… Jon and Gerry were different. They actually talked to him like a normal person. They saw him… something that Martin was aware hadn’t happened in a long time, even before he was trapped in the Lonely.

Jon hadn’t moved at all from the spot he crashed in the night before. He was awake, but just hadn’t moved yet. Jon stared at his hand absentmindedly; he wasn’t really looking at his hand, but something else that Martin couldn’t see.

“’Morning, Jon,” Martin said, a little hesitantly.

Jon snapped out of his daze and craned his neck to look at Martin. “Morning…” He sounded a bit confused. “I… ah…” He sat up and rotated his neck a bit. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Martin wasn’t sure what else to say. He was indeed fine. About as fine as he could be, trying to reintegrate himself back into the world. “How about you?” He bit his lip.

“Fine… I think. I… um…” Jon fell silent, which made Martin feel both nervous and annoyed. “Where’s Gerry?”

“He left for work, so it’s just us today.” Martin watched Jon absentmindedly flex his hands. “Are you sure you’re alright? You looked awful when we found you yesterday.”

Jon snapped his head to Martin, shocked. “I… believe so… I… don’t want to worry you.”

“A little late for that. How about you help me with breakfast? I still don’t think that I can handle that on my own.”

“Oh, yes, right… sure.” Jon scrambled up and together they made eggs. Jon held Martin’s hand and guided him to make the eggs.

“I don’t remember what happened yesterday.” Jon finally admitted after they were done eating. “At least not how I got home. I don’t remember leaving the institute.”

“You were in a bit of a daze. Though I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Well, you were panicking on the Tube. Our train stopped, and you couldn’t breathe.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “But nothing happened?”

“No. I think someone must have accidentally pulled the break or something. Gerry was worried it was something else. Not sure what though.”

“There is a thing that lurks in the Underground. The Buried. It… likes trapping people.”

“I guess that explains that then… But nothing happened, and we are all fine. What did happen yesterday? You left without really saying anything and Gerry was worried. And then when we did find you, you looked like a zombie.”

“I wish I rather was…” A small smirk crossed Jon’s face.

Martin gave Jon a horrified look. “But that would mean you died!”

Jon put his hands up in defense. “Just a joke…”

“It wasn’t that funny.”

“Sorry…” Jon sighed. “I needed to go to work yesterday. I was worried that if I didn’t something bad would be sent here and I really didn’t want to endanger you or Gerry. My boss, Elias, wanted to conduct an experiment, and… well… it was awful. Bad.” Jon held his arms with his hands and he shook slightly.

“You don’t have to go back today, right?”

“No. Elias is letting me have some official time off… I’m sure he will summon me when I’m needed again.” Jon sighed heavily, and slouched back on the couch.

Martin joined Jon on the couch, sitting on the very edge. “Why? Why would he do that? It isn’t your job, is it?”

“No… but Elias has made it that, and he’s my boss, so there isn’t much I can do.”

“You could quit,” Martin suggested.

Jon shook his head.

“Have you tried?”

Jon nodded. “At the beginning, I did. He did… terrible things and I told him I would be quitting. He just… sat there, smiling, like he thought that was the most amusing thing he had heard of. And I just… couldn’t. I couldn’t write a resignation letter, I couldn’t go looking for a new job. I was stuck there. I even tried leaving for a month… I only lasted a week before Elias sent something after me and I had no other place to go. It eventually was just easier to stay.”

“But it’s not.”

Jon closed his eyes. “It beats having no place to retreat to…”

“But it’s wrong!” Martin wasn’t sure what to do. He felt like he had to do something, and it bothered him even more that Jon was just… so passive. “We have to do something!”

“There’s nothing to do, though.”

It sounded like a challenge to Martin, but he wasn’t in the position to do anything with it. He had to get stronger. Jon passed out not too long after. Martin puts on some daytime TV, quieted so as to not wake up Jon, and attempted to do some normal things. He made the beds, cleaned up from breakfast fully, took a shower. He curled up on the couch next to Jon, tired by doing these normal things. It annoyed him, but he also knew he had to keep doing this. To gain stamina, so he could help Jon.

**Gerry**

Gerry wasn’t at the library _only_ to keep his job. There had been plenty of moments in the past where he just did his own research while working. As long as he would help people and get done what needed to get done, most of the staff didn’t care he was reading on the job. He had to do his research on the Magnus Institute. He was going to drag Jon out of that job, one way or another, and he knew he had to figure out everything he could about that place. There was something fishy about it…

What he found out over the following five hours was about the history of the place, where it was built, where it got moved to and why, and the founder, Jonah Magnus. As much as it was interesting, Gerry just didn’t care so much. It was a place to gather information on the fears. It didn’t exactly tell him anything about the present.

Two raps sounded on the bookshelf nearby, and Gerry looked up to see Tim, casually leaning against it. “Any way you can help me? Or are you off duty?”

Gerry closed his book. “On, and I’ll only help on library matters.”

“Then I’ll wait. I have time.”

Gerry groaned. “What then?”

Tim joined Gerry at the table. “I want to know if you tried getting Martin out.”

Gerry raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I would like to know. In case I would like to deal with the other monsters I have bound.”

“Martin isn’t a monster. He’s been lost and alone, and whatever he did to you was out of self defense.”

“He did nothing to me. It was what he could have done if left to his own devices. I have to battle with these… “people” often. Intention doesn’t matter. All I have met believe to have some noble cause, when in reality, it’s the ravings of lunatics.”

“He doesn’t want anything more than just to live. Martin hasn’t said anything about being a danger to others.”

“And what would happen if he were backed in a corner?”

“Right, like you didn’t aggravate that at all.”

“You weren’t there,” Tim hissed angrily.

“Then why don’t you tell me? Martin doesn’t seem to know what happened and seemed pissed off with you.”

Tim frowned. “I wasn’t looking for Martin at the time. I was looking for someone else. A person by the name of Trudy whose wife had been worried for a few years. They were a part of the whole beach fiasco and I went to see what I could find out about it. The whole place was covered in fog, and I traced the fog back to Martin. I did what I had to do to save the town. Now, did he ever say anything about that?”

“No, he didn’t.” There was a lot that Martin hadn’t said, because Martin couldn’t remember. “Did you… ever find Trudy?”

“No… they’re just gone. No trace or anything of that sort of any of those people since that day… except for Martin. He’s the only link now.”

“And you know this because…?”

Tim took out a folder. “Jorgen stole the original notes, but I usually make copies. You can have these, and maybe you can get to the bottom of what Martin is.”

Gerry took the folder and opened it up. Martin Blackwood, with his picture right in the front.

“It took a long while to find him, but I am good at my research.” Tim grinned a little.

“What do you want in return?”

Tim leaned forward. “How did you get Martin out?”

Gerry sighed, “Promise me one thing? You interview the people you trapped and see if they can be redeemed or not.”

“Deal.” The two of them shook on it, and Gerry explained the runes needed and what they represented. Tim took notes and listened intently. “It seems more complicated trying to get people out.”

“You’re trying to free them from a fear god. Of course it’s going to be more complicated. This is the easy one.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Our mutual friend, Jon? He’s gotten himself in a contract that is killing him slowly.”

Tim didn’t say anything at first. He looked at Gerry a bit dumbfounded. “God-damn the man. With who?”

“The head of the Magnus Institute, Elias Bouchard.”

“Of course he did…” Tim grumbled, looking more pissed off, “Is he working on getting out of this contract?”

“He’s given up.”

Tim shook his head. “Well, looks like we’re going to have to care for him. I’ll get in touch with you when I find out more.”

“You worked there.”

“Yes. It was a normal job for me. It was after I left that I heard all the awful creepy things they do to people. I know of a few people who signed contracts, specifically that, who have moved on. I’ll get in touch, see if any of them have leads as to how to do it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m doing this for Jon.” Tim stressed.

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

The two of them nodded at each other, coming to an agreement. Tim stood up, thanked Gerry, and left. Gerry sighed, not feeling as relieved as he felt he should. Possibly because he had no idea if Jon was actually still at home. He didn’t want to ask Jon directly, and Martin didn’t have a mobile phone. Gerry would be glad to get home, and he grinned at the thought of being able to go home with two cute dudes. When things calmed down, and the cloud was no longer over all their heads, he was going to have to ask if Jon and Martin would want to date each other with Gerry.

**Jon**

_Jon ran through twisting and winding corridors of technicolor light. No doors in sight, and every hallway was the same as the last, branching in all directions. He could no longer keep clear where in the maze he was, no idea if he could backtrack properly. He eventually stopped… was he actually on the ground, or was he on the ceiling. Why was he in the maze in the first place, and did it even matter? The sound of laughter echoed throughout the passageways. Was he even awake at all?_

_A door appeared in front of him, and opened wide with an ominous creaking sound. He couldn’t see through the door; it was all black. However, Jon knew he had to walk though. Anything to feel certain again, or else he was going to lose his mind, wandering around the maze for eternity._

_The darkness surrounded him as the door closed behind him. He could not see any sort of light. No windows leading out to a starless night. No doorways leading to sitting rooms with a TV left on accidentally. Nothing._

_A shadow moved around him that was darker than the darkness that pressed against him. Something that meant him harm. Jon had no weapons on him; only his bare useless hands covered in scars of battles where he lost, each finger had a thin silk string tied around it, the other ends lost to the darkness. The darkness pressed closer and closer, until he could make out the faint outline of a face, covered in holes and…_

_The thing in front of Jon got up to his ear and groaned, sending small spiders onto Jon’s neck._

Jon woke up screaming, trying to get the arachnids off of him… the ones that weren’t there. He tripped over the blanket draped over him, and he crashed on the ground.

“Jon?” Martin’s worried voice said from a room nearby. “Jon, are you alright?”

“I’m…” Jon started to say, but he knew whatever was going to come out of his mouth was going to be a lie and he didn’t want to get into anything he just remembered. “…awake. What times is it?”

“It’s nearly six… you’ve been sleeping most of the day. You kinda needed it.”

Jon groaned.

“I will say,” Gerry popped into the room, a towel draped over his left shoulder, “It was good to see you here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You didn’t go into work.”

“Yeah… Elias let me have the rest of the week to myself.”

“Good, gives us time to plan.”

“Plan what?”

“Getting you out of your shitty job.”

Jon just stared. “No. Please, it will only make things worse. I’m fine.”

“Your screaming said otherwise,” Martin chimed in from the kitchen, “Gerry, I need help.”

Gerry grinned and disappeared through the doorway. “Look, this job you have now isn’t what you signed up for, it’s making you miserable, and putting people you care about in danger. There’s a good amount of laws being broken, so you should have every right to leave.”

“I can’t. I’m under contract.”

“And we will work on that. Tim’s helping.”

Jon blinked. “Why?”

“Because he’s your friend?”

“We weren’t… we were just acquaintances.”

“Well, it’s either that or he likes you.”

Jon felt himself blush. Tim was an absolute player, and everyone knew it. He’d charm just about anyone. “No.”

“So friend then. You are allowed to have friends.”

“We don’t talk though.”

“You’re friends on Facebook.”

“That never counts for anything.”

Martin walked back into the sitting room, and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “We are going to get you out. I owe that to you for helping me.”

Jon opened his mouth to object, but didn’t have the heart to do it. He simply nodded and leaned into Martin a little in defeat. “I just don’t think there is any hope in it. I’ve tried finding my contract, but Elias either keeps it well hidden or doesn’t have it any more.”

“There has to be a way, and we will find it,” Gerry said, “Now, dinner?”

Jon didn’t eat very much. He wasn’t really hungry, despite not having eaten much that day. He could tell he was worrying Gerry and Martin, but neither of them were saying much of anything. Eventually, Jon got up, and went to crash on the couch again, not wanting to feel their concerns.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but maybe if you shared some of what’s been going on, we can better understand why you feel resigned to your position.” Martin sat in a nearby chair.

Jon shut his eyes tight. “It’s not pretty, any of it.”

“I don’t expect it to be,” Martin retorted, “But I know the least out of the three of us, and I would like to know.”

“It’s better that you don’t know more.”

“Tough.” Martin stood his ground. “Talk.”

Jon sighed, and sat up. Gerry came over, and joined Jon on the couch. “Elias came to me one day, saying that he wanted my help in a few things and would promote me to his assistant. I thought it was a great opportunity, and said yes. He pulled out the contract and I… didn’t read it. I should have, but I doubt I would have gotten out of that office without signing it. He had an experiment he wanted done, and asked if I could be in this pitch dark room and talk about what was going on through an old tape recorder. He said there wasn’t anything in there, but there was…” Jon shuttered, remembering quite well that there were shapes in the darkness that ripped at his skin and left him bloodied. “He kept conducting similar experiments about the Dark, as it is so called, until one night where I felt myself being absorbed by the darkness, becoming one with it. Elias shifted experiments then to something called the Corruption… I will spare you those details.”

“It deals with insects and disease,” Gerry explained to Martin, “And those associated with it are awful to look at.”

“I…ah, thank you for not explaining then,” Martin said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

“The entity kept changing when I had a personal experience outside of the office. Even if I didn’t say anything to Elias, I think he still knew. He has eyes everywhere. I swear.”

“So what about recently?”

“Not sure. It’s odd. One day is was spiders, and then the next was some books that seemed to control me.”

Gerry had a worrying look. “That would be the Web. The fear of not being in control. That does explain the state we found you in the Tube.”

Jon sniffed sharply. “Great… just… great…” It shook him, that he had come across this thing before in his childhood, that it had been real and really could have killed him.

“Jon? Are you alright?” Martin asks, a growing look of concern on his face.

“I’m just tired…” His soul felt raw. Jon personally didn’t have the words for it, but that was the feeling.

“Aren’t you a cat?” Gerry said in a joking way.

Jon tried not to groan. He didn’t mean in the physical way. This was a tired that just wanted out of his situation, and there was no amount of sleep to fix that. He grabbed a blanket and curled up.

“There is an air mattress,” Gerry said, “Or my bed. Both are a little more comfortable than the couch.”

“If I do that, where are you or Martin supposed to sleep.”

Gerry and Martin shared a look. “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t,” Gerry told Martin. Martin nodded in agreement.

“But we’re dating?” Jon blurted. It wasn’t really jealousy… he was just surprised and that was the first thing out of his mouth.

Gerry got into Jon’s face. “Then you can join me in bed.”

“I don’t…” Jon pushed Gerry’s face out of the way, “I wouldn’t make pleasant company.”

“You move a lot?”

Jon nodded. He felt these were the kinds of questions to ask after at least a third serious date… He wasn’t even sure what he and Gerry were. “I’m fine on the couch.”

Martin took a moment to think, then picked up Jon. “Well, I’m not. You should get a bed.”

Jon didn’t move out of surprise with how easily Martin picked him up. He let himself get moved to the other room and placed on the air mattress.

“I’m sorry if… this makes things awkward between you and Gerry,” Martin said.

“We are well beyond that point.” Jon muttered. He saw Martin’s dejected look. “Not because of you. Please, it’s not you. I’m sorry.” Jon buried himself in the blanket, not sure what else to do.

“The bed option is still on the table…” Martin offered.

“I’m not ready for that…”

“We did all sleep on the couch a few days ago.”

“That was different. It was a couch.”

“And what, a bed is more intimate?”

“Yes.” Jon stressed the word stubbornly. 

Martin actually chuckled. “You look cute when you’re determined,” Martin explained when Jon asked.

“I’m not cute.” He certainly didn’t feel cute.

Martin didn’t look like he believed him.

“Are you wrestling him in there, Martin?” Gerry’s voice called out from the other room. His head poked in.

“I’m not in the mood,” Jon said. He turned over, just to leave the conversation.

“You two should talk about your relationship soon,” Martin said quietly as he left the room.

“Sure, when he isn’t being a grumpy kitten…”

Jon had a hard time wrapping his head around it. Since when did people think he was cute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: vivid dreams, arachnophobia


	8. Chapter 8

**Gerry**

Things stayed quiet for the rest of the week. Martin had improved a lot over the week, getting used to being in a moving body again, thanks to Jon. Of course, Gerry helped too when he got back from work each day, but Jon was there during the work hours. There were a few times when Martin seemed to space out too deeply, but nothing that worried Gerry too much. Certainly not enough to update Tim about.

Jon’s nightmares didn’t let up at all. He’d wake up screaming at some point every night, and would vehemently apologize every time. During the third night, Jon passed out on Martin’s shoulder while being comforted. The three of them figured out Jon’s nightmares weren’t as bad when he was physically with someone, which was a huge improvement.

Because of that, Gerry’s relationship conversation got moved up. “What do you say about the three of us dating each other?” Gerry brought up during breakfast that next day.

Jon choked on his morning tea in surprise. “Where did this come from?”

“Well, I think you both are attractive and I like you both. And… I can’t help but notice you and Martin have a bit of a bond going on.” Gerry grinned, which made both Jon and Martin blush. “Think about it. I just think it would be a lot less awkward if we were just all on the same page.”

Martin and Jon talked about it off and on throughout the day, more or less wondering what bond Gerry was talking about. It wasn’t until Gerry got home and caught them on the couch, Martin dozing off on Jon’s shoulder while Jon had an arm wrapped around Martin. “So it’s either you say yes, or I’m just going to have to accept the fact that Martin stole my boyfriend.”

Jon was defensive about it, until Gerry assured him it was just a joke. In the end, they did decide that they would at least be cuddle buddies until Jon’s issue was resolved and things could have a sense of normalcy. In the immediate, Jon wasn’t as awkward about the suggestion of the three of them sharing Gerry’s bed. And while they were a little cramped up in the bed, Jon did sleep better after the adjustment.

Saturday came along, and Gerry got a text from Tim, saying to bring Jon and meet him at some park. Gerry looked up to where Jon and Martin were working on poetry; it was Jon’s suggestion to edit Martin’s poetry when he finally finished his cow poem. Gerry texted him back, saying to just come to the flat building and they could talk outside. He didn’t want to leave Martin alone, and what point was there to bring Jon along.

“I have a message from a friend of Jon’s,” Tim explained when Gerry asked about why Jon was needed. “For him alone.”

Gerry rolled his eyes, “I’ll grab him after. What did you find out?”

“It’s nothing good. Those that worked in Jon’s department didn’t have a good time getting out. Melanie nearly got killed in all her attempts to get out. Apparently, Elias does something to the contracts to make them soul binding and then just disposes of them? No one has found those contracts.”

“So, how did they get out?”

“It’s not pleasant,” Tim warned before he continued, “Melanie is the only one who was able to get out and stay alive, and she had to blind herself in order to do that. For whatever the reason, if you can’t see, you can leave without any strings attached.”

Gerry thought about it for a moment and started to piece a few things together. “I think that Elias must have done his whole bonding thing through the eyes rather than the soul.”

“That’s weird.”

Gerry gave Tim a humorous look. “Says the supernatural hunter.”

Tim conceded to that fact. “I tried finding out if there was any other way… but…”

“There isn’t, is there?”

Tim shook his head. He was concerned, based on past history with Jon. Gerry sent him down soon enough, and checked in with Martin, who was watching by the window. He had a light frown on his face as Jon and Tim spoke.

“Does he know I’m here?” Martin asked.

“Yeah, but he’s not coming in. I told him what he needed to know, and will leave you alone. He just wanted to make sure you’re not dangerous.”

Martin hummed unconvincingly. “Am I dangerous?”

“No.”

Martin gave Gerry a hard look. “Be honest.”

“I mean it.”

“But I could be.”

Gerry smiles, and holds tight onto Martin’s wrist. “I don’t think there is anything to worry about.”

**Jon**

Jon would be lying if he said he was not terrified with what he was about to do. The whole weekend was spent figuring out how to execute his quitting plan, which was not an easy thing to do when he learned of what became of the assistants before him… Michael was mentally gone. Sasha just straight up disappeared, no body for proof of death. And Melanie… well, she was alive, but getting out of the Institute was a rather difficult thing. She lost more than just her eyes, and that left Jon even more wary. Jon had a plan, and as Monday rolled in, he got up and headed to the Magnus Institute one last time.

Both Martin and Gerry sent him texts on Jon’s journey over. Good luck and all that. Gerry did write that Jon should have brought them with him, but Jon did not want to wrap either one of them into this. Not in the slightest. It wouldn’t take long. Not long at all.

Jon stood outside the institute for a moment, gathering up what courage he could to do what must be done. Should he have had Gerry or Martin come with him? Maybe, but he did not want them to get pulled into the institute on accident. The best way of making sure that was avoided was having them not be anywhere near the building. Jon put a hand over his makeshift tattoo Gerry drew. ‘Let me have a bit of your luck,’ he thought as he walked into the building. 

He began gathering up his things from his desk, and clearing out the work computer. There wasn’t much in the way of personal things on it, he just kind of wanted to give Elias a little bit of hell, at Martin’s suggestion. It was amazing that Martin could be so vicious. The tape recorder on the deck clicked on.

“I trust that your leave has been productive?” Elias said, making Jon jump from the sudden sound of his sleazy voice. Elias had this giant grin on his face, has he tended to have whenever he was about to conduct an experiment.

“Yes… it, ah, put some things into perspective.”

“I should hope so.”

Jon still hadn’t finished his quitting note. “I know my priorities now.”

Elias’ smile wavered ever so slightly. “I see. Well, if I could have you for a few moments. A new book came in and I was wondering if you could take a look at it.”

“Why me?”

“Oh, I think you know why, Jon.” Elias had a nasty grin on his face, that made Jon squirm.

Jon did, or at least the vague notion of why. He would love to know the details to his torture, but Elias would never say. Never did, and why would he start? “Where is the book?”

“In the usual place. I have some other things I need to attend to. Drop it off by my office when you are done, with all the notes about it.” Elias left, leaving a commanding presence behind.

Jon looked at the paper in front of him, pursed his lips, and finished his declaration of quitting. He could just leave… maybe Elias wouldn’t notice. Slip out, unaware. But as Jon started to walk out of the room, there was a tug on his heel that made him pause and reconsider. His eyes landed on a marble eye above the door way. Elias would know. Elias is watching. Jon had to do this one last thing, to keep up the illusion that everything is fine for Elias. Take notes on a book, give it back to Elias, then quit. Everyone would still be fine, surely. 

After making sure everything was wrapped up on Jon’s end, he grabbed the tape recorder and headed down to the experiment room. The lights flickered on as Jon walked down the hall; he could feel a rising tension with every step he took.

Jon opened the door. On the table was a black cloth covering something. Presumably the book, but based on how the cloth rests, it had to have been a very thin one. Jon closed the door and picked up the cloth. Underneath was a book he never thought he would see again. A Guest for Mr. Spider. The book called out to him and it took all of Jon’s will power to break away and run to the door. No, he was not about to interact with that thing. Not again.

The door, however, was locked. Jon couldn’t open it, and no matter how much he banged against it, no one was coming to set him free. He was alone, trapped in a book that was going to kill him. He crumpled onto the floor and wept.

**Martin**

It was nearly 3pm, and Jon still hadn’t returned home, or texted, or answered any of the panicked texts that Martin sent him. Gerry sent some texts, as well as a few phone calls, but they weren’t panic-laden. In any case, Jon had gone radio silent long enough for both of them to be concerned enough to go looking for him.

“He ever left the Institute,” Gerry said as they took a bus over to the area.

Martin was caught off by how sure Gerry was of his statement. Like it was a fact more than just a conjecture. “Why?”

“Call it a gut feeling.” Gerry said this in a very mysterious way that left Martin a little unnerved.

The Institute itself didn’t look anything special to Martin from the outside. Just another building on the block… that had a very creepy looking eye near the roof of the building looking out onto the street. It didn’t look very real, but it gave off the impression of staring down at the city block. Right through Martin’s soul. That was unnerving.

Gerry and Martin headed into the building. Martin knew he was being watched. The carvings of eyes everywhere did a good job alone to give that impression, but the feeling Martin felt ran deeper. “Jon works in this place? How does he stay sane?”

Gerry didn’t respond. He kept his eyes forward, holding onto Martin in a death grip.

“Ah, so it seems we have visitors.” From out of the shadows up ahead came a smug looking man dressed like he was in the wrong era. Victorian style clothing isn’t something all that common anymore. “I’m very terribly sorry, but the Institute is off limits to the general public.”

“We’re here for Jon,” Gerry said, “He hasn’t come home yet, and we just want to make sure he’s alright. Where is he?”

“It’s still a normal work day.”

“Where is he?” Gerry growled.

“Ah… well, he would be more than welcome to leave if he could finish this one task I had left for him, but it seems we are at an impasse.”

“What did you do?” Martin asked, wondering what could keep Jon in this damned creepy place.

“I’ve done nothing. Jon merely wishes not to do his job, which is a problem.”

“Jon’s quitting,” Gerry said, “He shouldn’t have to put up with anything you are giving him.”

“He hasn’t said.” But Martin knew from Elias’s face that he indeed knew this fact. He knew it well.

“Let him go,” Martin walked a little closer to Elias, a strong confidence building up in the back of his head. Jon was getting out of the building and leaving this awful job no matter what.

“I’m certainly not keeping him. He is allowed to leave, just after he does this one last thing.”

“No, that’s holding him hostage. He doesn’t have to do shit.”

“Ah, so this is how we are going to play this. Right, I was hoping to have you leave on your own accord, but I reckon that isn’t going to happen. So… Martin Blackwood.”

Martin blinks. The name sounded right, but how did this man know about it when Martin had no idea and never even muttered it prior.

“It really is such a pity that you don’t remember anything of your life. You’ve forgotten someone very important to you.”

Martin’s breath caught in his throat. The eyes all around the building were staring right at him and he hated it. He could feel them prying deep in his mind, through the mists that have been fogging up his mind all this time. Memories start appearing from that fog… The sound of a ticking clock from the bedside… Shouting and anger… The disapproving glare… Tears started falling from Martin’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” Martin could hear Gerry ask, though the voice sounded muffled compared to the surge of memories coming forth.

“Isn’t it time your friend here knows who he is?” Elias said, but his voice cut through everything else, reverberating through Martin’s mind.

Somewhere… there was an audible snap in Martin’s head. Not that anyone else could hear it. Somewhere in the building, Jon was trapped and needing to get out but he couldn’t. “Gerry…. Go….” Martin said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was menacing as all hell.

Gerry hesitated for a moment before bolting down the hallway.

Elias looked confused and started to shift his gaze to Gerry. Martin grabbed his wrist and held it as tight as he could, cutting off circulation. Elias’ eyes grew wide in fear. Mist started seeping in from all directions, obscuring the institute completely.

“You aren’t going to hurt Jon ever again,” Martin said, just before the fog once again overtook him completely.


	9. Chapter 9

**Jon**

Jon wasn’t sure how long he had been crumpled on the floor for. He raised his head at one point, wondering if he would be allowed to leave. The door was still locked, and the book on the table called out to him like a siren’s song. Jon didn’t trust himself to move again.

The doorknob starts clicking, like someone was turning it. It was frantic, and Jon was confused as to who would be trying to get in. “Hello?” he asked out loud, a little helplessly. Maybe this was a hallucination.

“Jon?” Jon nearly cried. “It’s me. Gerry.” The door handle moved again.

“Are you… really there?” Jon couldn’t believe it. Not really. It seemed too good to be true.

“Yes, and Martin’s here too. We came to get you out. I’m going to kick the door down.” Jon moved away from the door as quickly as he could as Gerry started kicking the door. It eventually flung open, the old hinges no longer taking it. Gerry immediately knelt to Jon’s side, and wrapped him in a tight hug.

Something clicked inside Jon…. Gerry shouldn’t be there. Something bad was going to happen… “I can’t… Gerry…”

“You had a plan.”

“Had, yes. I can’t..

“What was the plan?”

Jon froze for a moment, recollecting the plan before Elias had to ruin it. “I was going to collect my things, mess up some stuff on the company computer, leave my quitting notice behind, and go home and use the chemicals.”

“So, what changed?”

Jon pointed over to the book on the table. He wasn’t sure what words to use to explain why, because barely even he knew.

Gerry followed Jon’s finger and looked at the table for a little bit. “I think we are going to have to do it here. If you feel trapped like this, maybe we have to do it here in order for you to be free.”

Without seemingly much effort, Gerry scooped Jon up, and left the room. There was a heavy feeling that descended on Jon. Eyes watching, and a string that kept pulling him back into that small room. He shook in Gerry’s arms. “I have you,” Gerry said, “And I’m not letting you go. Where’s your desk?”

Jon muttered the directions quietly, not being able to use any volume louder than that. Gerry followed the words at a rather hurried pace. Jon felt bad knowing it was because of him. Eventually, Gerry dumped Jon in his chair and went off to explore the rest of the room for something…

“I didn’t want this place to be the last thing I saw,” Jon said quietly, the reality of the situation setting in as the strings around his heart grew tighter and tighter, beckoning him to stand from his seat. “And certainly not you taking my eyes out.”

“Do you want to do it then?” Gerry asked.

Jon did not like that prospect either. He wasn’t sure what was worse… but, he got himself into this mess, he had to get himself out. He nodded.

“Is there a first aid kit around here?”

Jon pointed to a box on the wall.

Gerry came back over with some bandages and a letter opener, all of which he dumped on the desk in front of Jon. “We’re going to have to take you to the hospital once we get out, so that you don’t get anything else damaged.” Gerry held the letter opener to Jon. “Will this do?”

Jon took the instrument in his hand, and weighed it. It was heavier than it felt. “How do you feel about this?” He was looking for any sort of excuse not to go through with it. Maybe… there was another way.

“It doesn’t matter.” Gerry said, unusually cold.

“It does to me.”

“It won’t change what needs to be done.”

“I want to hear it.”

Gerry knelt down, and put his hands on Jon’s knees. “…I wish it didn’t come down to this, but I want you out of this place. I don’t want you to be tortured anymore, because you don’t deserve that. You deserve to be happy.”

A tear rolled down Jon’s cheek. He made no move to wipe it away. He leaned over and hugged Gerry tightly, the strings around his heart slackening. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

**Martin**

Martin was back in the Lonely, holding onto Jon’s boss. It was the snow globe realm, where it was snowing by a long endless beach. Elias stared daggers into Martin, and he absolutely could feel it. He made no attempt to look away. Let Elias stare him down, better to give Gerry all the time he needed.

“You think this is enough to contain me?” Elias said.

“No, just long enough for us to get Jon and to leave. If you get trapped here, that’s just a bonus.”

“And I thought I only had to deal with one avatar of the Lonely…” Elias’ eyes started glowing gold, and Martin felt he was being Watched. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling for sure, but it was better than feeling numb. The cold was starting to set in. “Take me back, and I can assure you that you may leave unharmed.”

“And Jon and Gerry?” Martin asked, I won’t leave without them.”

“Jon is mine to deal with. And if you Gerry stands in the way of that, that is his problem. You I can promise.”

“Then no. It’s either all of us or none of us.” The fog was starting to get thicker, though not around Martin. Rather around Elias.

“Such a moral high ground, but diluted. You brought me here and have control of the Lonely. That is not so different from what I do.”

Martin squinted at Elias. “You’ve used your abilities against people. Good people. People who didn’t deserve it. Believe me, I’m not going to make your mistake.”

“Then you will be eaten alive by this place.”

“So be it then.” Martin said. He expected to hear more from Elias, but nothing more came. Alone. In the place that was his prison. And he remembered why this place was his prison. The waves of cool numbness washed over Martin again, luring him back into the place. It was calmer there. But it’s not better, and Martin knew that.

“Martin?” a voice called out. It was muffled. Gerry, surely.

The Lonely one smiled, and the fog started to clear away. Martin was back in the Institute, unsure of how to feel about what just happened. Gerry was there, and Jon, his eyes covered in bloody bandages.

“Is Jon ok?” Martin asked, running up to the two of them.

Gerry nodded, “We need to get him to the hospital though… where is…”

“Don’t worry about him.” Martin had a dangerous look in his eyes. “He isn’t going to bother Jon anymore.”

Jon smiled. “Good,” he said faintly.

**Gerry**

It took a bit before Gerry and Martin were allowed to see Jon again. The hospital took Jon immediately; not surprising considering all the blood that was on his bandages. Gerry tried to make up a story that seemed believable, something about a mugging that turned violent. It seemed the most believable, and they didn’t ask for any non-medical details. They did ask about calling the police, but Gerry told them no, everything was fine and there was no need to get any of them involved.

Jon had new bandages on when Gerry and Martin went into his room. His bed was propped up into a decent sitting position, and his head was lying to the right side.

“Jon?” Martin asked hesitantly as Gerry closed the door.

“Martin?” Jon perked his head up. “Is Gerry there too?”

“Right here.” Gerry held Jon’s hand. Jon grasped it back tightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” Jon admitted, “Everything hurts, but I don’t want to sleep yet. Well, not until I had made sure you two were ok.”

“We didn’t exactly have our eyes gouged out,” Martin admitted.

“We are going to have to look into getting a seeing-eye dog for you,” Gerry said, “So that you can do stuff on your own.”

“One that can keep him calm,” Martin added in.

“Maybe…” Jon grimaced, “I can just use a cane, really.”

“A dog is a little more lovable.”

Jon chuckled a little, “Too bad seeing-eye cats don’t exist.” He sighed and reached out for Martin’s hand, the attempt being a bit messy until Martin took his hand. “I’m sorry if I made you worried…”

“Hey… you're out and safe. That’s all that matters now.”

Jon eventually fell asleep, his grip on Gerry and Martin’s hands slackening, and his head resting to the side.

“I’m glad he’s doing alright,” Martin said, sitting in one of the nearby chairs with relief.

Gerry nodded, still standing by Jon’s side. He messaged Jon’s hand thinking. “Martin, what exactly did you do to Elias?”

“I…. might have put him in the place that I was in before being trapped in the book… I didn’t know I could do that. It didn’t seem to bother me like it did before.”

“That explains how you materialized again.”

Martin looked at Jon for a moment, the gears in his head whirling. “…did I do something bad?”

Gerry didn’t answer at first, because it was a complicated question. “I don’t know,” he eventually said, “I mean, you dealt with Elias, who honestly I would have loved to see burn. But… Tim said that you were an avatar, and I honestly didn’t think there was anything to it.”

“Until now.”

Gerry nodded. “Did you… have to make a choice?”

Martin tilted his head. “…like?”

“Did the Lonely force you to make a choice to serve it or not?”

“…I don’t think so. I just… had a feeling… and it took over. But I never had a choice.”

“So I don’t think you are an Avatar. I think you just have a lot of influence over the Lonely.”

“Would it be bad if I was?”

“Depends how you use it. I’d rather not want to have a philosophical discussion in a hospital though.”

Martin nodded, leaning back in the chair. “Do you think they’d let us stay?”

“I doubt it,” Gerry said, “Visiting hours and all that, and since Jon isn’t in any danger of dying, they’ll send us home eventually.”

Martin nodded, but didn’t carry on the conversation. He rested his head on his fist, and sighed. “I didn’t think I’d be back in a hospital… at least this time it’s not for a long time.”

“What do you mean?” Gerry asked.

Martin blinked. “Oh right… when I was facing off Elias I just… remembered my life before getting whisked away. My mother… had to be put in hospital. I’d spend days by her side… even though she’d rather not have me there…” A tear rolled down his cheek, and he brushed it away. “I don’t know if she’s still alive… and I don’t know if I want to know.”

“It’s not something we have to do today,” Gerry assured Martin, “It’s your choice, and we’ll support that either way.”

It made Martin smile. The two of them stayed until a nurse came to kick them out. Gerry woke Jon, just so that he didn’t panic with them not being around later. “We’ll be back first thing tomorrow,” Martin said, smiling.

“And hopefully, we’ll bring you home then too,” Gerry added on.

Martin went to bed when the two of them got home. He didn’t sleep, but just lay in bed. Gerry joined him after making some hot chocolate for the pair of them. They shared the drink between them in comforting quiet, with Gerry humming some tunes to fill the silence.

“Do you know what you want to do?” Gerry asked eventually, putting his mug down on the bedside table. “Not that you have to have an answer, but it’s something to think about.”

“…I want to write poetry. Does that count?”

“It’s something.”

“I’m more worried about what Jon is going to do.”

“…honestly, me too. I’ve been thinking for a while about opening a bookstore. Jon could help around it, and then we wouldn’t have to worry so much. You know?”

Martin was quiet for a long while, staring at his empty mug in contemplation. “What about a book and tea shop?” Martin said hesitantly.

Gerry smiled, and put his arms around Martin. “Now that sounds like a great idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: implied eye violence (it's done off-screen), implied Elias death
> 
> Art was done by @emarcial (Tumblr).


	10. Chapter 10

**Jon**

Jon felt for the pause button on the bulky boombox Martin had miraculously found and stopped the podcast Gerry had burned on CD for him. It took a bit to find it, and Jon felt relieved when he was finally able to press down on it. It had been about a few months since he had been discharged from the hospital. A lot had happened since then, between doctor’s visits to make sure nothing got infected to therapy appointments to work through everything that had happened. Of course, Jon wasn’t all that thrilled about the prospect, until it was made aware that the person who would be the therapist was well aware of the fear entities. It made the whole process easier.

Silence settled around Jon, with the exception of the sound of running water in the other room. Martin was washing dishes. The sound suddenly stopped, and Martin’s footsteps came into the living room where Jon was seated.

“Something wrong, Jon?” Martin’s voice was soft and comforting. Light, but warm.

“I… would like to take a walk. If you're busy that’s fine, but I’m just tired of sitting around.”

“Well, dishes can wait. And the doctor did say you needed exercise. Naomi will be proud of you too.”

Jon tilted his head, annoyed. “But I’m doing this for me, not them.”

“I know. And I think that means you’re doing better. Which makes me feel better.” Martin hummed and put his arms around Jon, his head resting on top of Jon. Jon flinched slightly, not exactly ready for that much contact all at once. Right, they all established to hum before touching Jon… the three of them might have to come up with a better system, because Jon was finding out the hum could mean anything. Jon put his hands on Martin’s arms, holding them close for a moment.

The two of them headed outside, Martin guiding Jon to a nearby park. The path was mostly even; he wrapped his left arm around Martin’s arm, and held his long cane in his right. The park wasn’t too busy in the section they walked in. Martin generally steered away from the bigger crowds, which Jon appreciated greatly. Martin kept a slow pace, finally learning what a good walking speed for Jon was.

“It will be nice when it gets warmer again,” Martin said, “So that there will be ducks in the pond.”

“And a few swans.”

“As long as they stay in the water, sure.”

“What do you have against swans?”

“Have you never met one? They are vicious.”

Jon chuckled a little.

“I’m serious! I got bitten by one once because I got too close to her babies.”

“That’s just self-defense.”

“I guess… Didn’t have to be so rude about it though.” Jon could imagine Martin pouting, staring away from Jon as he mumbled that. “Have you given any more thought to the dog?”

Jon pursed his lips. He had, certainly, he was just worried about taking care of the dog. He never had any luck keeping plants alive and he didn’t have enough motivation for himself some days. Dogs were people too, and deserved care and respect and Jon certainly didn’t want to add another thing to the list of things his boyfriends had to worry about and…

“Jon?” Martin came to a slow stop, pulling Jon from his thoughts, “Is everything alright?”

It wasn’t too long ago that Jon would have shrugged it off. But, he was starting to realize that wasn’t healthy. He sighed and leaned into Martin’s shoulder. “I don’t know if a dog would be the best thing. I never had one before, and I know they can be a bit much.”

“Well, you won’t be caring for it alone.”

“I don’t want to trouble you and Gerry anymore.”

“Jon,” Martin’s voice clipped sternly, “How many times do we have to tell you that you are not troubling us? Gerry’s about ready to drag you to get a dog.”

“I can walk about fine with the cane.”

“That’s not why we want you to get a dog. It’s for your anxiety and depression. You’ve been doing well, but we all know that it comes in waves.”

Jon froze for a moment, a bit stunned. That whole time, he had been weighing the dog for the sole purpose of mobility, he had never considered that there would be a whole other matter that he needed to pay attention to. “As I said, I never had a dog… or a pet really. I mean, Georgie had a cat when we were together, but that was her responsibility and I only helped feed it at times and…” His voice trailed off.

“Jon, you aren’t alone. It’s ok to ask for help. I know you have this whole thing about being able to stand on your own two feet, and you’re getting there. But no one can really walk about this world alone and you are… getting reacquainted with things. You aren’t a bother, and for the hundredth time, we are asking to let us help you.”

Jon mulled the words in his mind. For as much as he wanted to get back a sense of what things were like before leaving the Institute, he knew things never would. Was it so bad that he just wanted to prove to everyone he was fine? Though, really, he couldn’t hide it from Gerry or Martin. Gerry was too perceptive, and Martin understood in part how Jon felt. “…you should make that into a poem,” Jon eventually said quietly.

“Maybe I should, if I can remember it by the time we get back home.”

The word home filled Jon with a comforting warmth. “Home,” he parroted back.

“Now, how are you liking the new podcast you’ve been going through,” Martin asked as the two of them started walking again.

“I didn’t think I was going to like it as much as I do,” Jon admitted.

“Because it’s American?”

“A bit. It’s very bizarre, but in a very… what’s the word? Wholesome, I guess? Despite the entire setting that it takes place in being absolutely terrifying, the characters there are very genuine.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Jon couldn’t help but smile. He gladly would.

**Martin**

Martin was not looking forward to his meeting with Tim. Over the past month, he was starting to realize that whatever he did at the Institute was having consequences. He was phasing in and out more of the mist, and he nearly brought people into it on a few occasions. Jon could feel when it was going to happen, and would get Martin out of whatever trance he walked into. Gerry kept dragging Martin in a corner to ask him what was going on. Martin didn’t know, and eventually was convinced to go talk with Tim.

Gerry was nearby, walking with Jon, out of earshot, but Gerry made sure to be in eyesight of Martin. Just in case Tim tried anything. Jon told Tim over the phone that this was to be a conversation only and to not do anything to Martin. It helped calm Martin a little, but did nothing in the way of completely settling his nerves.

Tim didn’t look all that overjoyed to see Martin, but he was surprisingly unarmed, at least visually. “That mist is covering your shoes,” he says, a little grumpily.

“I’ve been having trouble with it,” Martin admitted. Down to business. “I want to know how to get it to stop.”

“That’s on you.”

“That doesn’t help,” Martin said pointedly. “How is it on me?”

“You really have no idea.” Tim said this in a bit of awe. “Well, every avatar has to make a choice… and it seems that you’ve made yours. Or at least that's what it seems like.”

“To be a part of the Lonely?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t though.”

“Judging from that, I think you might have.”

“Then it was a forced call. That can’t count.”

“And do you think these beings care? They don’t. We are nothing and they will eat any one of us that gets too close.”

“So what do I do then?” Martin can’t just do nothing. He hated waiting and sitting around. It wasn’t productive in the slightest.

“There isn’t anything you can do. Not from what I’ve seen.”

Martin couldn’t accept that. “Fine… then how do normal people escape it? I know that they can.” He had seen it a few times while trapped in the snow globe world. People becoming clearer and running and then disappearing away from the fog.

“It’s not like they can for long.”

“Humor me,” Martin stressed.

“From what I know, the Lonely usually takes people who don’t have anyone else. Sometimes, people remember that they have someone to reach out towards.”

“So like a friend?”

“Friend. Family member. Lover. Someone that reminds them they aren’t alone.”

Martin looked over to where Gerry and Jon were walking about. It was true that when he had the fogging episodes that they seemed to stop when Jon, Gerry, or both of them were nearby, hugging him. Their presence… their touch, seemed to drive the fog away. “So, I just need to be in a relationship then?” It was funny to Martin that a relationship was the cure for what was ailing his body.

Tim thought about it. “Yeah, actually, when you put it that way. No family?”

“Not anymore… my mother passed away while I was… drifting. She was the last family I had left. She wouldn’t have helped much anyway…”

Tim shrugged. “Look, I already promised I’d stay out of your way, but… if I find out that you’ve been taking people, I will hunt you.” There was a dangerous look in his eyes, something slightly unnatural.

Martin frowned. “What is your deal anyway? Why are you so intent to find and kill every avatar?”

The look in Tim’s eyes vanishes, as he remembered himself again. “I… it’s my brother, actually. He was killed by an avatar, a living doll named Nikola. I spent a long time trying to find out what I could and when I figured out what happened… I wanted to make sure no one would lose someone like that again.”

“I’m sorry.” Because Martin was. He felt bad for Tim and his plight.

Tim sighed. “Just… look out for Jon. And not because he’s blind. I would have said this if he could still see. He has a problem with overworking himself and not knowing when to quit. He can run himself ragged.”

“Don’t worry. Between Gerry and I, we’ve got him looked after.”

Tim nodded, and then extended a hand. The two of them shook. “See you around, Martin, and I really do hope it’ll be on good terms.” He left, making sure he didn’t run anywhere near Gerry or Jon.

“How did it go?” Gerry asked when Martin joined up with his two boyfriends.

“Better than I had thought.”

“Why?” Jon asked, “What did you think was going to happen?”

“He’d threaten me with a book. He still did, but not aggressively so?”

Gerry wrapped his hand around Martin’s. “You two seemed to part well.”

Martin nodded. “And it’s going to stay that way.”

**Gerry**

Gerry leaned back after he was done talking about his account at the Institute to Gertrude. She sat there, taking it all in for a small while. For the whole telling, she didn’t interrupt, didn’t say a word. Almost like she was mesmerized. Gerry wondered if this was how all witness statements went.

“And so all is well?” Gertrude said once she was done with her mental thought.

“Seems that way. Jon’s starting to get back on his feet again, and we’re working with Martin so he doesn’t get taken by the Lonely.”

“And what about you?”

“Nothing happened to me, besides getting two boyfriends.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

Gerry sighed. “No… the week leading up to Institute, I just kept… knowing things. How Martin and Jon were doing mentally. When the neighbors had panic attacks. The fear of people that I would pass. It’s only gotten more frequent since the Institute. I don’t know why.”

“You said that while you were finding Jon, you ran past many doors without checking them, knowing that Jon wasn’t there.”

Gerry nodded.

“Did anything else happen once you came out of the Institute? A meeting with something by any chance?”

Gerry thought about it for a moment. Most of his days for the past month had been filled with work, doctor’s appointments, and spending time with the ones he loved. Though… “It was just a dream.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“This was a few days after the institute. I dreamt I was in the library, in a back corner that doesn’t exist, looking through old newspaper articles. I was looking for something, but just couldn’t find it. I felt something looking behind my shoulder, but I couldn’t move to look. I could feel it trying to absorb my own sight…” Gerry covered the eye tattoos on his arms. “I woke up from that, but I’ve been having that dream every so often. I don’t know what it wants.”

“I would think that would be obvious.”

“No, really, it's not.”

“The Eye wants your eyes. Literally or figuratively, it doesn’t matter.”

Gerry sighed. “So, what do I do then?”

“You have a choice to make.”

“Except I don’t get one. I know what happens if I say yes. Jon has been telling me what Elias was like and I don’t want that. I just don’t know if I can refuse. Or if I do, what would happen. I… I don’t want to turn out like Jon.”

Gertrude chuckles a little. “Jon is a different case, so you needn’t worry about that. As for the consequences… I think that is something you have to solve on your own.”

“You don’t know?”

“You have a different choice than I did.”

Gerry sat stunned for a moment. He knew there was always something odd about Gertrude’s place of work, but he never thought…

“By the way, I did do the research you asked for.”

“And?”

“Keep an eye on Jon. He may not be a part of the Eye’s clutches, but, and especially from what you explained to me about him, I think the Web might want to claim him.”

“Jon isn’t a mastermind of deception.”

“And you think he can’t learn?” Gertrude asks. “Most people who become marked or chosen start out normal. These beings accentuate the worst in people, especially if the person doesn’t control themself.”

“And what of Martin? He’s actually marked by something very deeply.”

“I’m not saying to not keep an eye out for him, but out of the pair of them, Jon is the one you need to keep the closer eye on. The Lonely can be kept well enough at bay as long as Martin knows he’s loved. And I do assume he is?”

Gerry nodded. “Of course.”

“So, he should be fine.”

There was something within Gerry that should feel comforted by all this… he wasn’t. “There’s no way we are ever going to completely shake all this off, is there?”

Gertrude gave Gerry a sad look. “I wish there was, for your sake. The fact that you got caught up in all of this despite my best efforts is proof enough that these things will do what it takes to keep their victims one way or another. You do have something on your side though.”

“And what is that?”

“Knowledge, should you choose to feed into it.”

**A Tape Clicks On**

“Can we talk about the shop again?” Jon asked one night after dinner. He twirled around his straw in his cup. “As in, can we make a decent plan of it?”

“Do you want to do it, then?” Gerry asked, his voice lightening up at Jon’s inquiry, visibly excited.

Jon frowned. “Why are you surprised? I thought it was a good idea from the beginning.”

“You never did say really,” Martin pointed out, coming back into the room after finishing cleaning dishes.

“…I thought about it.”

“Jon, that’s really not the same as saying it out loud.”

Jon sighed heavily. “Yes, alright, fine. I get it. Can we talk about it now though?”

“Alright, let’s.” Martin pulled out a notebook and set it on the table. “I have been doing some research into this. I wouldn’t recommend doing this here in London because of rent. Opening any sort of small business without much in the way of funding is really difficult.”

“So then, we spend a few years saving up to open a place.” Gerry shrugged. “Though, I don’t see why we should move… unless both of you would rather not stay in London.”

Martin looked over at Jon, who had stopped playing with his straw and had a serious look on his face. They both had the same thought. “Well, I’ve never really been much for crowds…” Martin slowly admitted.

“And I think it would be nice to be in a quieter area in general,” Jon continued, “Maybe not village life quiet, but good sized town quiet.”

“Village life might be fun.”

“It would mean a lot of walking.” Jon frowned. “And random sheep.”

“But there would be good cows!”

Gerry laughed at Martin’s insistence. He has been writing down the suggestions and ideas. He figured maybe it would be a good idea to get out of London. The other two seemed to like the thought of it, and considering all that had happened… maybe it was for the best to get a fresh start. Perhaps, some of the lingering dread could finally be lifted from everyone’s shoulders. “We can brainstorm some nice towns. I don’t see why we should rush into moving, especially if we are going to be saving up anyway.”

Martin looked a little worried. “I should get a job.”

“You don’t have to feel obligated.”

“But I should. To help.”

“Maybe at a café somewhere,” Jon suggested, “And get some experience with running one.”

Martin thought about it for a moment. “That’s not a bad idea.” As long as Martin felt good about what he was doing, all should be well. He smiled a little, twirling his thumbs around on the table. “I’ve… ah… well, if we are moving to a town it wouldn’t make much sense, but…” Martin fell silent for a moment, then piped up again. “I’ve always wanted to live in a cottage. Or stay in one for a holiday. I thought it would be… nice.”

Gerry looked at Jon, remembered Jon cannot give him a confirmation look, then looked back at Martin. “I don’t see why we can’t take a holiday.”

“But… the shop?” Martin said immediately.

“Martin, there’s nothing wrong with taking a break,” Gerry said, “And I think after everything, we all should get away for a week. We really haven’t done that at all.”

“We haven’t exactly had the chance,” Jon said, “We could go to the beach…” Jon was reminded of how Martin got taken by the Lonely, “Or maybe up to Scotland. And we can meet some of those highlander cows.”

Martin still looks concerned, but smiled at the thought of seeing cows. “If you both are sure.”

“Yes, we are,” Gerry insisted, “We have to have a little fun. We can start really planning the shop afterwards.”

They all agreed to it. Jon started playing with his straw again. “Well, if we're done talking about it for the time being,” he said, “Can we put on a movie?”

“Who’s choice is it this time?”

“Well, since Jon suggested it, he should choose.”

“Neither of you like my movie suggestions, so no.”

“You keep choosing documentaries, and they don’t count.”

“History documentaries should. They are certainly more engaging than the romcoms.”

“You liked Love, Simon, though.”

“…yes, but it was gay.” Jon takes a seat in his spot on the couch. “Every other one has been a snogging fest.”

“Doesn’t help that you fall asleep in the middle of them and wake up to the snogging bits,” Gerry said, amused. “Jon.” Gerry sat next to Jon and carefully pulled him close so that his head was resting on Gerry’s shoulder. “A movie.”

Jon sighed. “Fine, whatever you were talking about the other day. I don’t remember the name.”

Both Martin and Gerry burst out laughing, which make Jon blush heavily. When he asked for an explanation, Martin explained, “Jon, of all the movies you had to choose, you chose one that is mostly silent.”

“Though,” Gerry leaned in closer to Jon, “Since you fall asleep watching movies anyway…” He grinned, despite knowing Martin would be the only one to see it. 

Jon glared, which made Gerry laugh. “Martin, please just choose.” He curled up in himself, still glaring.

Martin, who had been in a fit of giggles the whole time, pulled out a movie and put it in. “We’ll do The Princess Bride then. A little action, a little romance, and a little hope that Jon might be engaged in the dialogue.”

“Is it good?”

“The best.” Martin flops on the couch, positioning himself so that Gerry was in the middle. “And if you don’t like it, maybe next time you should prepare a movie before saying anything.”

Jon’s frown only deepened. “I should just stick with podcasts.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Gerry said, “Podcast date night instead of movie night.”

Jon is quiet for a moment, before getting closer to Gerry and placing his head on his shoulder. “Next time. I’ll find one we can all agree on.”

“Good luck with that one, Jon,” Martin muses, and he starts the movie proper. He leans back in the couch and looks at his two boyfriends with a contented smile. The Lonely might always be a part of him, but he knows for a fact that he is not alone, and he refuses to be again.

Jon sighed, focusing in on the audio of the movie. He never expected to ever be in a place where he could say he felt safe. Yet, here, now, with the two people who he cared most about in the world… This was safety. This was home. And he would do anything to keep it as such. 

Gerry noticed Martin just sitting there with the lovey-dovey look he sometimes has. He shakes his head, and drags Martin into the cuddle pile. It wasn’t that Gerry had been lonely before, or lost. But, his life did feel more complete with Jon and Martin in his life. Something he would never trade for anything, and will enjoy the moment for as long as it will last.

And for this moment, none of the Entities that have been woven tight in each of their lives could touch them to corrupt this moment of peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed the story. Thanks once again to @emarcial for doing the art. I encourage all y'all to check out the other fictions and art that were done for the RQBB2020, because there's some fantastic stuff that people did. 
> 
> Please leave a comment (I love reading them). I may at some point write more with this AU, but it won't be for a while due to other projects I'm working on.


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